After Too Far Gone
by FanOTheFang
Summary: My version of what might happen to Daryl and Beth after Season 4's Mid-Finale. Language, bit of violence and eventually lots of lemons... Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**It's my first time writing The Walking Dead FF – My version of what might happen to Daryl and Beth after Season 4's Mid-Finale. I hope you enjoy it!**

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**After Too Far Gone**

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It wasn't like him to run away, but he had to. The prison was gone. He'd blown up the tank, but not before it had run through the fencing. The prison was gone, their safety was gone. What next?

There were footsteps on the gravel behind him. Beth was keeping up with him, not surprising that the girl could run, she was all legs.

But they couldn't just keep running, there had to be another way to get out of here.

A car, a truck. Fuck, the tank woulda been handy.

His bike.

Well, Meryl's bike. Daryl had claimed it from his brother as if it had been written in a will.

Out of the corner of his eye, Daryl saw it, just by the gates. He was running in a different direction, but that bike had gotten him away from the farm when it had al gone to hell, could it get him out of here too?

"This way," he hissed and Beth turned with him, dodging around dead walkers as they went.

Beth seemed to falter, Daryl reached out to grab her arm and keep her moving, but realised she had stooped down to pick up a bloodied crowbar that was laying on the ground.

Their run was easier than he could have hoped. The walkers were either distracted by the dead or moving towards the prison buildings and easy feeding. Daryl only had to dispose of two with the butt of his empty rifle, he noticed Beth used her crowbar to good effect when the remaining half of a walker tried to grab her ankles.

The two of them arrived at the waiting bike unscathed.

Daryl dumped the weapons from his back in the panniers on the bike and climbed on, shouting at Beth to join him. She was looking back at the prison with wide eyes, "We can't leave."

"We have to. It's lost."

"But we should help?"

"It's over, Beth. Everyone's runnin' or dead. Get on."

Still Beth hesitated.

"Hershel would want me to get you out of here," Daryl insisted. He saw her flinch at the mention of her father's name, but she clambered on the seat behind him. He did feel a twinge of guilt, it was the wrong way to get her moving, but Daryl couldn't think of anything else right then.

Maggie and Beth had been close to hysteria when their father was slain, but they had carried on and fought. Daryl had been impressed with both of them, but how would they cope now. Of course, he had to keep Beth alive long enough to see how she coped, with just the two of them, that might not be easy.

Bouncing the bike over the gravel path, he reached the road as quickly as he could and left the prison behind them.

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Beth was desperately trying not to think. She struggled to keep her mind blank. She had never been on the back of a motorbike before and concentrated on the barked instructions to hold tight and keep her head down. Once off the rough ground and on the smooth road the ride became easier and thoughts crept into her mind. Images of her Daddy on his knees, of the sword swooping down to slice into his neck.

No, she wouldn't think. She wouldn't cry. She didn't do that anymore.

A bump in the road gave her a reason to concentrate on something else again. Concentrate on holding onto Daryl Dixon and staying on this bike.

When the group of strangers had first arrived on their farm, her father had warned her to stay away from all of them, she didn't need telling twice. Everything had changed. She knew sitting on the back of this bike was one of the few safe places in Georgia. Her father trusted and admired the man in front of her, or he had. Before today...

Beth hitched in a breath. The tears were coming and there was nothing she could do to stop them. She pressed her face into the greying wings on the leather clad back in front of her and let the tears flow.

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Daryl's eyes focussed on the road ahead, while he did a mental inventory of their supplies. Three or four guns, little or no ammo; his crossbow with four arrows, one in need of repair; a couple of knives and Beth's crow bar. The panniers on the bike held at least ten plastic cigarette lighters, but only half a pack of smokes; a full canteen, a small bottle of water, a couple of flash-lights with extra batteries and a thick black shirt that he kept in case he was kept away from the prison at night. Beth would need that, she wasn't wearing anything that would keep her warm once the day cooled, neither was he but he could cope with that for a while.

They needed food, not desperately, but it would become an issue. He knew where he could get some with only a slight diversion off the main road he was following.

Daryl began to turn to tell his passenger his plan, but he could feel Beth's shoulders moving and thought he heard a sob, even above the noise of the bike. Of course she was crying, after what she had seen today, he wouldn't blame her if she never stopped.

Without any thought he had set off in the opposite direction to Woodbury, there was probably no danger there now but Daryl wasn't going anywhere near that place. The first small town they came across was one he had driven through many times, the houses and stores were stripped clean of anything useful, but he stopped outside the first house by the road.

It seemed to take a second for Beth to realise they weren't going anywhere anymore. He felt her move from his back and heard snuffling noises, as if she were trying to wipe her face with her hands.

"We just need to stop for a second. There's something here for us." He told her, she mumbled something in agreement that he didn't catch. She staggered as she got off the bike and stood on her own, Daryl reached out to grab her arm and hold her steady. "You'll get used to the bike," he promised as he climbed off too.

Beth nodded and looked around her with wide eyes. She had never looked especially strong, Daryl thought she seemed more frail than ever.

"I'm sorry..." he began, but what else could he say to someone who'd just lost their father. Not just any father, but Hershel. A good father. Nothing he said would make this better for her.

Beth nodded in response, but only just. He dragged the shirt from the side pannier on the bike, "You should put this on." It wasn't that cold but she was shivering as he held out the shirt for her. "I ain't seen any walkers since we left, they've all gone off following the noise o'that damn tank. We should be safe, but we still need to be careful." He passed over her crowbar once she pulled on the shirt, then collected his crossbow.

"Why'd we stop?" Beth asked, looking at the street they were on. This would never have been the best of neighbourhoods and long after anyone had lived here the cheap housing looked more run down than ever. Daryl was used to this kind of place, but the farmer's daughter wasn't.

"Michonne's got a stash here. Things we'll need." As he spoke, Daryl wheeled the bike off the road and parked it between the first two houses.

"So we're stealing from Michonne?" Beth sounded bemused.

"No, no, she told me she'd left things here. I've done the same in other places. It's just things we might need if we get stuck out on a run. Save us time trying to find food and water and stuff in an emergency... This qualifies as an emergency."

From the trash can at the back of the house, he dragged out an rank smelling black sack, so he could reach the tightly tied sack just beneath. Inside that, he was relieved to find a full rucksack, which he dug into. Six cans of food, a bottle of water, a small flash-light and a useful looking pair of pliers with the stub of a very un-useful looking pencil. Crushed in the bottom of the bag was a leather jacket that he'd seen Michonne wear.

"Will this fit you?" Daryl offered Beth the jacket.

"Are you sure she won't mind?" Beth still didn't seem sure.

"Course she won't. I'm hoping that right now she's be going through one of the stashes I've left. The jacket will be better for you if you come off the bike..." As Beth's eyebrows raised, he hastily added, "But you won't come off the bike, I've not dropped anyone yet."

Beth didn't look convinced, but she slipped off Daryl's shirt and tried on the leather. It did fit her, it actually really suited her. "At least I look like I should be on the back of a bike now," she shrugged, pulling her blond hair out from the collar.

Daryl decided he should look away. Quickly.

"Did you see where Michonne went?"

"No, I lost track of her when the tank drove up... but if anyone's alright, she is." Daryl was convinced. He started to repack the ruck sack, but left a couple of cans and the water in the plastic sack, just in case Michonne passed by. With that thought in his head, Daryl realised how useful that stubby pencil could be. One of his arrows needed a new flight, but it would be a handy for a message. Beth looked over his arm as he wrote 'STAYING CLOSE, WITH BETH' on the shaft of the arrow and shoved it back in the bag.

"We're staying around here?" she asked.

"Just until we find everyone."

Beth's nod encouraged him to continue.

"We'll find your sister, our family and find somewhere safe again. Another prison maybe, somewhere solid." Daryl knew it was a reckless promise.

Slipping off his wings jacket, he pulled on the old shirt, surprised at the warmth it still held from Beth's body. Pulling the wings back on held the warmth in, it made him feel as if he could keep that promise, he had to. Although he had spoken the words to his daughter, he felt as if he had just promised Hershel.

It was a promise he could not break.

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**What did you think? Please let me know. I realised I've never even written human FF before, so this is a huge change for me. Also, I'm English so although I try and Americanize things, I don't always manage it!**

**Daryl and Beth have been having conversations in my head over Christmas, so this story is all planned out. I've got a couple more chapters almost done and will post them when they're done. **

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**28th December 2013 ~ FanOTheFang on Twitter and Tumblr**


	2. Chapter 2

**Quick Update: Daryl is determined to keep Beth safe after their escape from the Prison.**

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Surviving was getting harder. Daryl only needed to find food and water for two, but the towns near the prison had been picked over months ago, no longer could you stroll into a store to collect food and bottled water. Many houses too had been emptied of anything useful, either by their owners who were about to go on the run or by desperate survivors. So often he and Beth found empty kitchens and frustration grew in him everytime it happened.

Hunting was difficult because Daryl refused to leave Beth alone while he hunted, she was light on her feet, but not used to the woods. Squirrels were few and far between anyway, the amount of meat on them and the time it took hunting them was making it not worth the trouble, especially as he didn't want to risk lighting a fire to cook the little animal.

Gas was easy to find, there were plenty of cars around but collecting it was time consuming. It became a regular chore as they drove through the area searching for fellow prison inmates and avoiding anyone who might be trouble. They couldn't carry any stores of gas on the bike, it was awkward enough stowing away their weapons. Any food they found they either ate immediately or Beth carried in Michonne's rucksack, while balancing on the pillion. Everytime Beth got off the bike she stretched awkwardly, Daryl knew she found it uncomfortable, but she didn't complain. He actually considered picking out a car and ditching his brother's bike, but they wouldn't be able to move around so easily, so he quickly scrapped that plan.

They saw very few walkers, he assumed they'd moved towards the prison, following the noise. He expected they would be occupied there for days. It wasn't walkers that worried Daryl, it was humans, particularly the surviving male population. He had beaten a confession of gang rape out of a kid called Randall once, Beth would be a wet dream to a group like that. It soured his stomach to think about it, but it made him cautious.

He wanted to take care of Beth, to get her back to the group and her sister, but most nights she went to a makeshift bed, exhausted and hungry, with no sign of her sister. It made Daryl more determined than ever not to fail her and her father. A week on the road, eating little, sleeping rough and above all mourning her father and worrying about her sister was taking it's toll on her, she had always looked beautiful but delicate, now he thought she looked more fragile than ever. He could not fail her.

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No one would ever say either Daryl or Beth were chatty, with Beth in shock from her loss and Daryl concentrating on surviving and finding their people, most of their time together was spent without much conversation. Although there was one conversation that they repeated regularly in various forms, to Beth it seemed like a deadly serious version of Where's Wally merged with Twenty Questions.

"Tell me again, you were at the bus with your sister but neither of you stayed there?"

"Maggie went to find Glenn, I went to get Judith. I didn't see her or Glenn again." Beth's voice was strained, but Daryl needed answers.

"Did you see the bus again?"

"No, it was gone when I came back outside. I only saw you after that..."

"So Maggie and Glenn could have got on the bus just like we planned?"

"I hope so." Beth said fervently.

"The bus left before us, so I thought we would catch up with it. Could they have gone to Woodbury? Why would they do that?"

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Beth had her own questions, "Were you near to Carl? Where did he go?"

"He went down the lawn to his dad. I lost track of him after that." Daryl shook his head. "I got totally distracted by that damn tank!"

"It was a tank, Daryl. Very distracting! If you hadn't destroyed it, things could have been worse for all of us."

Daryl appreciated the support but it didn't make him feel any better about loosing track of people.

"So Carl should be with Rick, he should be ok?" Beth tried to sound hopeful.

"I think he'd be alright on his own too, but yeah, if he's with Rick there's a good chance the two of 'em are good. Michonne was down there too." Daryl hesitated to mention Michonne as she had been so close to Hershel when he'd been killed.

"You said you didn't see what happened to her?"

"I didn't, not totally, but she was moving away from… the trouble." Daryl said awkwardly.

"You think she's alive?"

He nodded, "She's the surviving type."

Daryl was surprised when Beth managed a small smile. "So she was quite near Rick and Carl. They could have met up?"

"Maybe, but this is real guesswork now, sweetheart, try not to get too excited."

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"Before everything started, Ass Kicker was with the other kids?" Daryl began one night as he was struggling to sleep.

"Yes, but she'd gone when I went back to get her. Her carrier too."

"So someone carried her out of there. Someone would have taken her to the bus. The girls all knew to do that."

"Yeah, she'll be safe." Tears swam in Beth's eyes as she prayed that was true. "I bet they've already met her Dad and Carl and Michonne. Maybe they're all wondering where we've gotten to."

"We'll find 'em."

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Another time Beth began their strange game. "I didn't see Carol at all."

"Carol wasn't there. She didn't come back with Rick." Daryl replied, Beth scowled in confusion but he didn't want to explain that part of the story to her. "Carol wanted a little time away."

"So she should be out of the prison? We might find her on the road?"

"Hope so."

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For the second time in her life, Beth's world had changed beyond recognition. Life in the prison was hard, but it become home and she had the comfort of her father and sister. That had all been snatched away from her by a psychopath with an eye patch.

During the day, she was still trying to block out thoughts of her father so she concentrated on doing what she was told. She hadn't been out of the prison since they arrived, Daryl seemed very aware of that and for the first couple of days he gave lots of instructions to her when they were scavenging through houses.

At night she was exhausted and slept better than she could have hoped. She even felt guilty for not laying awake at night crying over her loss or worrying about her sister. Crying and worrying took energy, Beth had very little.

The back of the bike had become her sanctuary. Going through towns she made sure she was aware of her surroundings, but on long stretches of road she let her mind go to her father. She wanted to mourn him, he didn't have a grave where she could go and pay her respects but she could remember him. The initial memories were filled with the horror of his murder, but eventually she thought of better times. Life on the farm before the turn, even some of the good days in the prison. She heard her daddy's laughter, she saw his encouraging smile, all the while leaning on Daryl, resting her cheek to his back.

There had been times in the last few months when Beth thought she would give anything to ride on Daryl Dixon's bike, to share some alone time with him.

She had told no one, not even her sister but she'd had a massive crush on Daryl for a long while, although there was absolutely no way she would do anything about it. She had told herself she was being a ridiculous school girl, and this crush was no more likely to come to fruition than the crush she'd had on her art teacher when she was fifteen. She could even compare her thoughts about Daryl, to Carl's thoughts about her. Never gonna happen.

Her infatuation with him had developed slowly, she'd been scared of him at first. He was one of the strangers camping on their land. The strangest of the strangers who had taken her favourite horse, gotten himself stabbed with his own arrow and almost shot in the head by one of his own group. At the time she had been struggling to cope with the way the world had turned on it's head and had thought of little of anything other than her own broken family circle.

It was when they reached the prison she began to realise she should be taking more notice of him. Of course he was keeping everyone safe and keeping the place supplied, if that wasn't enough, when Judith arrived he had been incredible with her. His proud face when he'd first fed the baby was etched on her mind. Beth had planned to have a baby at some time in her life, and when she did, she wanted the father to look at her child just like that.

She didn't fool herself, nothing was going to happen with Daryl. When he called by her room it was to see Lil' Ass Kicker, she knew that. It wasn't easy to forget about him though, she needed a little escapism from the hard life they had.

She began to see Zach because everyone thought she should. They were supposed to be a romance novel, but it didn't feel like that to her. He made he laugh, she could pretend with him that the world wasn't changed. He was fun, he was a friend. It was no surprise to her that he died, but it was a shock that Daryl came to tell her. He'd admitted he was grieving while she felt nothing. Hugging him felt right, although she could tell it was something he wasn't used to.

Still she knew that he was the hero, she was the nanny, never gonna happen.

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"**Never gonna happen" we shall see! **

**This is another short chapter, just while I test the waters! Although everyone's been very kind so far. Thank you for the comments and follows, they are really appreciated.**

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**Happy New Year to Everyone! I hope 2014 brings you every happiness.**

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**2nd January 2014 ~ FanOTheFang on Twitter and Tumblr**


	3. Chapter 3

**Quick Update: Daryl and Beth have not found anyone from their group, but they are trying to work out where they might be. Beth remembers the crush she had on Daryl while they were at the prison.**

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It had been the worst week. No luck finding family, little luck finding food. Daryl was becoming tenser by the day.

He had ridden further away from the towns he knew in search of food, but he knew he was risking riding away from their family. As they got further away from the prison, the homes and stores improved in quality. He supposed 'rich folks' didn't want to live too close to the criminal element.

There wasn't much daylight left when they reached the edge of a town he'd ridden through a couple of times but didn't know too well. Daryl stopped the bike at the first house and when the engine quietened he was surprised to hear a familiar moan, he stayed on the bike and peered into the overgrown garden. It was dark amongst the trees, but he could see the walker, who had been hung by his neck from a branch. It was a sight he'd seen before, but Beth seemed quite shocked once he pointed him out. The walker looked like he had been a heavyset business man, but the business signs at the front of the house showed that if he was the owner, he was an herbal practitioner. The graffiti on the front wall said 'There is no cure.'

"You think he said he had a cure, but it didn't work, so they hung him?" Beth asked.

"I'm guessing he was _selling _a cure that didn't work, so they hung him."

"Oh…" Beth got off the bike and considered the hanging walker with her head on one side.

"Let's try next door." Daryl suggested.

"It looks like he lived here as well as worked here, there should be a kitchen. I'm sure he'd put off a few looters."

"Good shout, we'll take a look."

Daryl wheeled the bike up the drive, keeping an eye on the walker, who was swaying as he reached towards what he hoped was food and making a strained gargling sound. Beth hesitated on the pathway and sounded quite embarrassed when she asked, "Are we just gonna leave him there?"

Smiling to himself at the de ja vu, Daryl didn't argue this time. "Okay, but I'm not wasting an arrow." He took Beth's crowbar and, carefully dodging the flailing arms and trying not to breathe in, he reached up to push the pointed end through the side of the walkers head. The sharp metal went in smoothly but the movement was too much for the decaying body. The neck began to stretch and realising what was about to happen, Daryl dodged backwards. The body and head hit the ground separately with a sickening squelch. The body released a stench strong enough to make even Daryl's eyes water. He tried not to grin as he heard a squeak of disgust from Beth. She tried to cover her nose and mouth with both hands as the putrid air enveloped them.

"C'mon," Daryl insisted as he pushed the bike at a jog away from the smell. As they reached the back of the house, both paused to take in a fresh gasp of air.

The garden was well overgrown and looked as if no one had been there since it's owners demise. The backdoor to the house was locked, but Daryl was pleased to see the keys hanging on the inside of the door. "Good sign," he muttered as he broke the pane of glass next to the lock and reached inside to turn the key.

The door opened straight into a large kitchen, there was the usual smell of food that had rotted long ago, not as bad as the stench the walker made but not a smell you would want to stay around for long. Daryl let Beth in first, she went straight to the cupboards while he checked out the hall. There was no sign of trouble, neither human nor walker.

"I can't believe I'm still hungry after seeing and smelling that..." Beth said with her head in a cupboard. "Oh look, look, look. Lots of cans." She began pulling them off the shelves and into her backpack. "This guy must have been single and scared of good cooking."

Daryl inspected a few fancy looking labels. "Hey, I'm single and scared of cooking, but my place was never this well stocked."

"You never got married?" The question bounced out of Beth's mouth before she thought it through.

"No!" Daryl sounded defensive and surprised at being asked, so Beth stayed quiet until she thought of a question that he wouldn't object to.

He was staring intently out of the window, when she asked nervously, "Should we eat in here?"

Daryl beckoned to her to look out into the garden, "You see the shed? Can you see what's on the roof?"

"Ahh... not really. It's kinda dark, all I see is trees."

"It'll be a surprise then," Daryl seemed quite pleased with that idea, he collected up Beth's bag and the house keys, then set off outside.

The garden shed seemed in good condition, but the padlock on it was rusty and awkward from lack of use. While Daryl grumbled at the lock, Beth stepped back, looking at the roof. "There's a chimney? Why's a garden shed got a chimney?"

Daryl shrugged. "Rich folks," was his best explanation. "I'm just hoping it means there's a fire, we could eat hot food tonight... Yes!" As he shone his torch inside, he saw a small wood burning stove and shelves packed with all sorts of gardening paraphernalia. Most of the floor space was taken up by a worn but comfortable looking armchair.

"It seems a lot smaller on the inside." Beth said as she stepped inside after Daryl.

"I suppose that just proves I'm not Doctor Who," muttered Daryl, as they tried to stand in the cramped space. "Do you wanna sit while I get the fire going? We'll never both be able to move around in here."

As Beth sat, he was able to bolt the door behind them, although why a shed would lock from the inside he had no idea. 'Rich folks' he thought again as he started to inspect the fire kindling, he was pleased to find a small but sharp axe that he wasn't going to leave behind.

Beth was finding the chair more lumpy than she expected and pulled from the cushions a bottle of vodka and a packet of cigars. "I'm not a fan of vodka," Daryl commented. "Be useful for cleaning cuts though."

From her seat, Beth was able to see most of the shelves, "This might be better?" She grinned as she pulled a First Aid Box onto her knee and inspected the contents. The owner of the shed went up in her estimation as it was well stocked.

Daryl was more interested in the cigars but they crumbled in his hands. "Shit..." he muttered, while Beth decided not to hear him. Her chair was still uncomfortable, reaching to the other side she pulled out a magazine whose front page showed a woman with the largest pair of breasts she had ever seen.

Daryl looked up at her strangled noise of surprise and took the magazine from her hands.

For a second Beth was shocked, thinking he wanted to see it, but then he put it on the floor and ripped off the front page. "Perfect, we need something to start the fire... Sorry ladies," he added as he lit a rolled up strip of paper and held it in the wood burner. "See, the smoke's going up the chimney, it's clear. Now we know why our walker-friend used to lock himself in his shed, he couldn't have cigar smoke and porno in his fancy house."

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They decided on a starter of lukewarm tomato soup, while Daryl's 'premium' beef curry and Beth's 'homemade' chicken casserole heated properly. Daryl put up a garden chair for himself and on the shelves they found a hardly used picnic basket complete with bowls and cutlery, Beth even used a napkin, this was the most civilised meal they had eaten since leaving the prison.

Daryl could see colour coming back into Beth's face from the heat of the fire and the food, she looked more relaxed than he had seen her all week. It was a shame he was going to spoil her moment of peace with the conversation he needed to start.

She peered at the cans on the stove, "These seem cooked to you?"

He decided food came first, they could talk later.

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Daryl wasn't the only one thinking things over.

"The hanging walker..." Beth began, "He was still alive, well, kind of. He'd been stuck up there all this time, but hadn't starved to death?"

"Nothing else'll kill them but damaging the brain, as far as I know."

While she ate, Beth was scowling in thought. "They're just gonna keep coming. Never changing. They won't just die?"

"I think they change, just a little. If they don't feed they seem slower. I wouldn't want to test that theory though." Daryl admitted. "They seem to have a good sense of smell. They hear well. Eye-sight's a bit dodgy though."

"Wonder why?"

"I suppose the eyeballs just rot quicker than everything else..." Daryl stopped talking as he realised Beth had stopped chewing and closed her eyes. "We should talk 'bout somethin' else."

With an effort, Beth swallowed and took a sip of water. "That's OK, I shouldn't have asked."

They ate the rest of the meal in silence, Daryl regretting choosing the curry as he hadn't eaten spicy food for a while, but the warm food was a comfort. They decided the shed was where they would spend that night, mainly because of the warm fire and lack of smells. Beth convinced him they should return to the house to claim a couple of blankets and she used the water left in the pipes to wash up. Daryl covered his bike in a tarpaulin and they had their usual bickering conversation about who should sleep in the most comfortable place before settling in for the night. Beth always said Daryl should take the best place as he was driving all day, but he always stubbornly refused and eventually got his own way.

Tonight Beth was curled up in the armchair and Daryl on the put-up chair with most of the leg room. He knew he needed to have this talk before she slept, but began awkwardly, "We need to plan, work out what we want to do and how to do it."

Beth looked a little surprised and didn't reply straight away so Daryl continued. "Like one of the Committee Meetings we used to have."

"I wasn't on the Committee."

"Well, you're on this one. Our Committee of Two." Daryl was relieved when Beth smiled a little, he carried on. "I'm pretty sure I know what your priorities are, but I need to know for sure..."

She paused a little, but when she spoke sounded determined, "I wanna find my sister, and stay alive long enough to find her."

"Good... You remember when we all got split up last time, when we were running from your farm? I'm beginning to think that we were real lucky then to find so many of us so quickly. We don't seem to be having that kinda luck this time."

"You don't think we'll find anyone?"

"We will, but I'm not sure we'll find them just driving around these towns, hoping to come across them and trying to avoid trouble too. Chances are they are driving around in the same circles we are. Someone needs to stand still."

"We're never gonna find them..." Beth's voice was a shocked whisper.

"You remember Sophia?"

"Of course, Carol's little girl... you never found her either."

That comment made Daryl wince, but he continued. "No we didn't, but we had a good idea. We left her a sign on the highway, if she'd been alive she'd have seen it, stayed near it and we'd have found her. I think we should try putting up a sign, find ourselves somewhere safe to bunker down and keep going back to check the sign."

"What sorta sign?"

"That's where my plan gets a bit vague," Daryl admitted. "We can't go painting 'Beth and Daryl are here' on a wall, a bigger group might hang around and try steal from us..."

Beth glanced up and caught his eye at that point, he was sure then that she knew stealing from them wasn't the worst that could happen.

"I liked the idea of 'Warning: Escaped Prisoners in the Area'" he smiled at the thought, "But any of the Governor's new people would understand that."

"We need something only our group would know. I'll think about it... Where should we 'bunker down'? It took so long to find the prison."

"It'll be easier to find somewhere for just two of us, we won't need much space, just somewhere secure. We're not even planning on staying forever, we don't need space to grow anything. Just a house with a strong locked door, where I can board up the downstairs windows. We can go around the outskirts of the town, see what we can see." He felt more confident about his plan as he said it out loud.

"Should we look for somewhere tomorrow? Then make a sign." Beth leaned forward in her chair as if she wanted to go right now.

"Tomorrow," Daryl agreed, feeling pleased that his other Committee Member was happy with his plan. "Shall we celebrate our decision with dessert? There's fancy tinned fruit."

"Should we save that for breakfast?" Beth couldn't help grinning at his enthusiasm. "We got a busy day tomorrow."

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Daryl added wood to the fire as they settled down to sleep, but Beth didn't feel as if she would sleep for a while. The fire was the only light and she could see Daryl staring up at the ceiling.

"Daryl?"

"Hmm," he murmured.

"Could I ask you something? The same question you asked me. What are your priorities? What do you want?"

"Same as you, kinda, I want everyone back together." He paused then sat forward in his creaky chair. "I wanna see Lil Ass Kicker grow up and become a real ass kicker. That's what I want."

"She could be on our sign? Lil Ass Kicker! Everyone of us would know who we meant."

"I like that... If I saw that on a wall, I'd stop." They both grinned into the darkness.

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**So they have a plan and I'm starting the beginnings of a plot! Huge thanks to everyone for the reviews and favourites and follows.**

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**Just a note that if I disappear from (or get kicked off) this site I'm on AO3 ~ I'll put the links on Twitter and Tumblr where I have the same name. **

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**7th January 2014**


	4. Chapter 4

**Quick Update: Daryl and Beth have a plan...**

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After the jubilation of the night before, the next day spent looking for a safe house didn't go too well. They checked a few houses further up the street where they had spent the night, but all had damage to the front doors and Daryl didn't think it was worth checking them. It looked as if this area had been systematically looted long ago.

After a short drive they found a decent looking street, but while Daryl was picking the lock of the first house, Beth stayed on look out and saw a walker just two houses away. Where there was one, there would be others, it wasn't worth the risk.

They drove out of town and came in again on another road but they had definitely found 'the wrong side of the tracks' as far as this little town was concerned. Lots of small houses, close together and badly maintained.

Again they road out of town, Daryl went further around and on the way back in was almost convinced that he had lost his sense of direction. He should have been going towards town, but the road was narrow, with trees either side almost meeting above them. The overgrown bushes at road level made it difficult to see what was on either side. Daryl was considering returning to the garden shed for another night, at least it had a wood-burner, but Beth thumped on his shoulder.

As he slowed, Beth yelled in his ear, "I saw a gate, back there. In a brick wall, it looked solid."

The road was too narrow to turn the bike so they walked it back and through the bushes Daryl could see a wall that was certainly taller than him. Beth was right, the wall did look solid, as did the wooden gate when they reached it. It was set into a strong frame, with no lock on the outside. Daryl didn't fancy his chances of kicking it in, but he did want to see what was on the other side.

He was looking at the bushes for something strong enough to boost him up the wall, after he had tried a couple of times Beth suggested, "You could just give me a leg up?"

"No way."

"Why not?"

Daryl didn't really have a reason, other than he didn't want to risk her going over the wall alone. "There might be a hundred walkers the other side of here, or ten men with guns."

"I'll be careful, walkers aren't likely to spot me, if they did the wall would hold them and any humans would have heard the bike and be through the gate by now."

"You're just gonna look…"

Beth hadn't had much practice climbing walls, but with Daryl's help she got her arms over the top and carefully popped her head up to take a quick look. "No walkers, no gunman," she hissed down at him and pulled herself up a little more. "It's just a big house… a bit higher?"

"No!" Daryl grunted, but Beth managed to get purchase with her boot and pulled herself up so her stomach was on the top of the wall. She wobbled precariously, which had Daryl wondering if he'd be able to catch her when she fell. Somehow she swung a leg around and ended up sat astride the wall, much to her own surprise.

"Beth, get down from there!"

"But it looks good, can't we check it out? I'd only have to get up again." Looking down on Daryl, she realised she'd need to be more descriptive to persuade him. "It's a house. Big one. Looks pretty new, brick, two floors, the wooden shutters are all closed up. The garden's over grown, doesn't look like anyone one's been here for years. Can you get up to see?"

As little as he wanted to, Daryl had to admit it to himself that it sounded good, although the thought of Beth falling off the wall and breaking her leg was making it hard to think straight.

He wheeled his bike from the road and hid it behind the bushes by the wall, then passed up his crossbow to Beth and her crowbar. Using his bike as a boost and a tree to hold on to, he got atop the wall, still glowering with irritation.

The 'big house' seemed like a mansion to him, he couldn't guess how much it might have once cost. Well, it was free now.

Daryl lowered himself down from the wall and Beth handed him the weapons. "It's seems further down than it did up," she admitted.

"You can either lower yourself down like I did, or jump. I'll catch you." Daryl propped his crossbow against the wall and stepped back. Beth was clearly preparing to jump. He saw her mouth a word he'd never heard her say out loud as she pushed off the wall.

It wasn't the most graceful of catches, they didn't hit the deck, but staggered and held each other up. Before he let her go Daryl couldn't stop himself from snapping at her, "You have to be more careful. You can't go climbing up walls you can't get down from, when you don't know what's up there. You coulda tipped straight over the wall and broke your neck!"

"I'm sorry..."

Daryl had gotten used to women arguing back, if he had said anything like that to Maggie, Michonne or even Sasha they would have bitten his head off. Actually Michonne might have chopped his head off.

Beth kept her eyes down, her hand came up to her mouth and Daryl felt a wave of guilt. "You nearly gave an old man a heart attack," he added, trying to make her smile. "Seems like a good place you've found though, don't know how you spotted that gate..." He didn't get a smile, but she nodded. "Shall we take a look. You got my back."

"Let's go," she said.

Rather than walking across the long grass that had once probably been a carefully manicured lawn, Daryl kept to the wall until they came to a pathway that lead to the back of the house. All the windows were shuttered except for glass patio doors looking out onto a paved area that still had a garden table, umbrella and four chairs set out. A quick look at the lock on the doors convinced Daryl he'd have trouble opening it without the crowbar's help. Above was a balcony and more patio doors that might not be as well locked, but he didn't want to go climbing up there after snapping at Beth for scaling the wall.

They walked slowly around to the front of the house, which had mock Roman columns and more shuttered windows. The front door was wooden with lots of brass fittings, Daryl saw the lock was just a plain dead lock. Confident it would take about thirty seconds to open, he relaxed enough to look around the rest of the property.

The house wasn't set in a big plot, the wall was solid all around, with a strong, double gate at the front. Next to the house was a separate double garage, with a car inside and external steps leading upto what might be a couple of rooms above it. Rather than inspect that, Daryl went back to the front door. "Let's see what we got in here."

He opened the front doors wide to let some light into the hallway and heard a soft "Wow, it's huge," from Beth behind him. Sunlight shone on the wooden floors and lower part of the open staircase, Daryl's small flashlight didn't show much of the balcony above or the hallway going back into the house, but they could see two pairs of closed double doors either side of them.

Beth wanted to go in, but Daryl's arm barred her, "Hold on, I heard something."

Just then Beth too heard a familiar dragging of feet, and saw a figure come slowly through an open door down the long dark hallway.

"Our welcome party," commented Daryl as the walker made her way slowly towards them.

"She was the maid," decided Beth, taking in the uniform as the walker reached daylight.

Daryl was pointing his loaded crossbow, but said to Beth, "We need to back up."

"You're not gonna just shoot her?"

"She'd make a mess of the house, might as well let her step outside."

The walker seemed to scowl at the sun at she reached the door, but she continued to lurch towards them. Daryl let her move away from the doorway then drove the crowbar through her head. As she crumbled to the floor, there was the sound of keys falling to the floor, Beth darted forward to pick them up. "She really was the welcome party. You think she's the only one here?"

"The owners might still be around so we'll stick together and go room by room."

The first room was a study, with lots of book lined shelves, opposite was a very floral lounge, it had lots of candles as decoration so they lit them to save Daryl's torch. The lounge led to a huge formal dining room with seating for twelve, more flowers on the walls, more candles on the table. There was also a bar in the corner, which was where Daryl headed. He waved at the barstools, and Beth took a seat, while looking a little surprised.

"I don't think she's been in these rooms, maybe she couldn't cope with door handles," he shrugged. "But it seemed like other doors were open, so we might come across something, someone. They must have heard us by now. So we'll grab a drink before we go any further."

"Sure..." Beth looked anxiously at the bottles, but Daryl ducked down and put mixer cans of cola on the bar.

"The fruit juice looks rank, but this'll last forever."

The drink was gone in a couple of gulps, but the sugar rush stayed with Beth. "That never tasted that good before."

"There's more under here, they're pretty well stocked. A couple of packs of bottled water, fancy glass bottles. Still and sparkling. Two cases of Champagne too, not opened."

"Might have been planning a party?"

"Celebratin' the end of the world?" Daryl gave a lopsided grin and finished his drink.

.

The kitchen gave Beth a shock. It was huge, as she'd expected, with white cabinets with a pale oak surfaces and floor, a chunky oak dining table with only four chairs this time. It could have been beautiful, but the white cabinets and pale floor were smeared with dried, blackened blood, presumably from the decaying walker-maid who must have spent her time drifting around this room since she turned. Most of the old blood was collected on the floor by the door that led outside, she clearly hadn't managed to open it.

Beth was glad that the maid never knew what had become of her body, it was only a small consolation.

Daryl didn't seem to notice the blood, he opened a few cupboards and said with surprise, "There's more food in here than in the stores."

That drew Beth's attention from the depressing existence of the walker, she began opening cupboards too. "Why would anyone want so many tins of potatoes? If you were rich enough to live in a place like this, couldn't you eat fresh?"

"Pasta, enough rice to last us six months, there's even more bottles of water. They were stocking up in case it was the end of the world." Daryl said indignantly.

Double doors from the kitchen led into another lounge at the back of the house, they peered out of the curtains to see the patio furniture they had seen on the way in.

"I wonder if the owners ran off when they saw their maid was ill and locked her in," Beth suggested.

"Maybe, we still need to be careful though, they might have died and got locked in upstairs. Do you wanna eat before we go up?"

"I think I'd rather know if anything is wondering about up there."

Daryl agreed, "Me too."

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The candlelight threw strange shadows as they went slowly up the wide staircase from the hall to the gallery landing above. "It's so spooky," whispered Beth.

"I feel like we're in Scooby Doo… Lets try this side first… Do you know what Scooby Doo is?"

"Of course, the repeats are always on, or they were, and they made a movie."

Daryl made a strangled noise of disgust at that thought.

The first two rooms were large with double beds, floral décor again but they did not seemed lived in. There was certainly no one there now.

The third room made both of them pause. It was huge, overlooking the front of the house with a double bed, a single and a cot filled with stuffed toys. There were posed family photos on the walls, three generations smiled down at them.

It was on the tip of Daryl's tongue to say the cot would be perfect for Ass Kicker, but he caught sight of Beth's stricken face and thought she might be thinking the same thing. He just managed to stop himself saying anything which would upset her and checked out the en-suite instead. No sign of anyone, dead or alive.

Looking out of the window, he saw the front of the house was similar to the side where they had arrived. Tall trees on the other side of the garden wall made it only possible to see over the double gates on the driveway, Daryl couldn't see much more than another wall and more trees. He wondered if there were other similar houses nearby, if they were as well stocked as this one it would be worth taking a look.

They had finished the rooms at the front of the house, and passed the top of the stairs again to reach the back. Just two rooms to go. One was a large bathroom, it had a jacuzzi bath and double sinks shaped into seashells, they had fake gold taps and and lots of pink fluffy towels. Beth stared, a little bemused. There was a storage cupboard filled with more fluffy towels and lots of bedding.

The last room on the landing had double doors, to Daryl's surprise it was locked. "You got those keys?"

Beth handed them over and held her candle closer to help. "How can a new house be so old fashioned? It's like we walked into the Eighties."

"What do you know about the Eighties?" Daryl laughed, looking up from the lock.

"Well, they were tacky." Beth wasn't sure if she might have offended him.

"Should we find another house with better décor for you? Prison grey again?"

Beth hesitated for a second, then realised that he was joking. "No, I suppose this will do… Good grief," she said as Daryl got the doors open.

This time even Daryl took a moment to look at the decoration. Huge flowers in a repeated pattern on all four walls, "It looks empty but there could still be trouble, be careful. Those flowers might be poisonous."

It was the first room Daryl had let her walk into first so Beth was very watchful. It was lighter than the other room, no shutters but thick curtains on full length windows with daylight creeping around the sides. She ignored the décor but took note of the king sized bed and seating area by the windows. It was obviously the master bedroom, it had two doors, one she presumed for the en-suite, but she wasn't sure what the other was for.

Beth opened the first door very slowly, just in case ten walkers were huddled in the next room. She gave a yelp when she saw a golden, glowing figure infront of her, but realised it was herself. "Sorry, sorry. It's nothing, just a reflection in a mirror. This is a dressing room. Loads of clothes, very colourful!"

Daryl returned to checking out the lock on the door. It didn't just lock in the centre but at the top and the bottom of the door too. The inside had two shiny 'gold' bolts for even more security,he liked this door.

Beth returned to the main room, "Bathroom's fine, same as next door."

"I think we can risk opening up, lets get some air." Daryl drew the curtains and opened the glass doors onto a balcony big enough to hold a marble top table and two iron chairs.

"I wasn't expecting a view." Beth admitted. Beyond the garden wall were overgrown green fields, there were more trees than buildings in the distance.

Daryl was looking down into the garden, the walls of the balcony were extensions of the walls of the lounge below. The patio furniture in the garden was beneath them.

"Is that the gate we came in by? I've gotten all turned around." Beth was leaning over the wall.

"That's it. I think there's another house to the front, and there might be another this way. See the wall."

"Is that okay?"

"We'll check them over, but if humans were there, they would be in here too, so I guess we're fine. It's secure this place, solid, just what we needed. A bit bigger than I expected. I'm sure it's less than an hour's drive to the centre of town, so we can make our Ass Kicker sign and go check on it most days. What about you? Do you want to stay here?"

"Sure!" Beth was surprised he'd asked. If Daryl thought it was safe that was good enough for her. "Definitely easier than taking the prison."

"Kinda boring really, but we should bring my bike in and get settled. You best have this room."

"Just me? Where will you be?"

"I'll take one of those doubles at the front. That okay?"

Beth felt panic rising in her, but she didn't know if she could explain why. "Sure," she agreed in a small voice.

"What's up?"

"Maybe I'll take the other double room? Then I'll be next door, not so far away. It'd be weird being on my own, after we've all been on top of each other for so long. Or, or we could use that family room with two beds. Sorry, I know you want your privacy. I'll be okay, I'm just being silly. Sorry..."

"I thought you would want some privacy." Daryl interrupted, sounding a lot calmer than Beth.

"Eventually, when I get to know the house, maybe?" Beth glanced up at him, then straight back down again. He could see she was mortified and he could even understand why she wouldn't want to sleep alone. He also realised she had a point, if he was all the way down the corridor, he'd probably need to check up on her every ten minutes just to be sure she was still there. She had to be safe.

"This is the most secure room," he began. "We should both stay in here. There's plenty of room, we can lock the door. It's got the balcony as another exit if we need it. A bathroom and that changing room place to give us a bit of space from each other. I'm sure they'll have a barbecue, we can set it up on the balcony and bring up stores, then if we get trapped up here we'll be fine. If we don't base ourselves in one place, we'll probably spend all day wondering round this damn mansion tryin' to find each other." Daryl paused hoping he'd given enough reasons to make her feel better about not wanting to be alone. She looked happier already.

"Really," Beth was smiling in relief. She'd been surprised at how scared she was by the thought of being alone. "Well, you got to take the bed this time."

"No way, all those frills and cushions. Good lord girl, what do you take me for? I'll take that. Looks better than a prison bunk." Daryl pointed to the sofa.

Beth shook her head, glad that the banter was back and leaned in the opening of the patio door while Daryl started moving furniture. He was saying something about moving the sofa so it's back was to the bed because they'd get more privacy that way, then he moved the armchair where the sofa had been. It took Beth a moment to realise she wasn't listening to him, she was watching his arms. The hard muscle pulling at the heavy sofa. The little glimpse of that black tattoo on his back. His ass as he turned to shove the chair into place.

They had just decided to share a room and she couldn't keep her eyes off him. So much for getting over that crush.

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**How do you think Beth's going to cope? I'm sure I'd find him distracting too!**

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**I've always got a bit carried away describing houses, I enjoy writing the details. You might have already guessed, it's my thing.**

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**Huge thanks for the comments and favourites, they're really appreciated and a great motivation, so please let me know what you think.**

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**12****th**** January 2014 ~ FanOTheFang on Twitter and Tumblr**


	5. Chapter 5

**Quick Update: Daryl and Beth are settling into their safe house.**

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Daryl was hungry, but in a good way. He wasn't starving because he had nothing to eat, just hungry because all afternoon he'd been working on getting their house in order.

His bike was inside the gardens walls and safe again. To be ready for a quick escape he put it in the front hall of the house. He'd explained to Beth that "The garage is too far away!" She shook her head and looked a little bemused, but did not complain about his parking spot.

The back of the garage had to be used as a garden store. He guessed the original owners used a gardener because there weren't many tools. Predictably, for this over sized house there were two barbecues, one was huge and needed gas but one seemed about the right size for two. There wasn't much coal so Daryl added that to his list of things they needed, although fire wood would be fine. He wondered if he should go to the hassle of chopping down a tree.

He couldn't find white paint, but did find a can and a half of pale pink that had been used in the bathrooms and seemed appropriate for their 'Lil' Ass Kicker' sign. There were paint brushes too.

Beth had been busy sorting out a selection of food and cooking items, then they both trooped up and down the stairs carrying everything they might need to their room. Daryl thought Beth seemed quiet, he supposed she was embarrassed about admitting that she didn't want to sleep in a room on her own, so he let her be.

The only time she got chatty was later in the day, when she got excited about a battery operated can opener.

"You can't use that," he objected. "It's a waste of batteries."

"But these batteries don't fit in our flashlights. This'll save loads of time." She said, waving the can opener at him.

"We've got all the time in the world," he argued just for the sake of it, relieved that she was talking.

"You can stay in the dark ages, I'm using it. We have plenty of cans to try!"

"Okay, pick something. Let's eat. We've done enough work for today." Daryl was happy to concede.

"I was gonna get cleaned up first? Find something clean to wear for once. You go ahead."

"I'll get the fire goin' and wait for you. Not used to having so much choice, it might take me half an hour to choose a can."

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There was an envelope in the hallway that confirmed the owners of the house had been Mr and Mrs Grant, Beth was guessing that they were grandparents and the cot, in the family room along the hall, was for their grandson.

From her dressing room Beth discovered Mrs Grant was somewhere between one and three sizes larger than herself and, much like her house, she preferred to dress in bright colours and floral patterns. Mrs Grant had more evening dresses than anyone Beth had known, but she had also been to yoga one or twice and had three pairs of yoga pants and a mat to prove it. A dark purple pair seemed the most sedate, Beth also picked out a white t-shirt with little stars on it, mainly because she couldn't remember the last time she wore brilliant white. It was a treat. There were also training shoes that were close enough to Beth's size and thick fluffy socks, which were amazing after her battered cowboy boots and worn socks with a hole in the heel.

Beth took her bundle of clothes through to the bathroom. The water from the taps was shockingly cold, they had decided that the house wasn't on the mains but had a well somewhere. Beth knew from life on the farm that really cold water meant a really deep well, they decided they could wash in it without a risk of being polluted by walkers. It was a relief to flush a toilet, although neither of them were inclined to drink the water.

Beth ran a sink full of water while she stripped off her filthy clothing, then washed as quickly as she could. She felt better when wrapped in a towel and took a look at Mrs Grant's toiletries. The cleanser, toner and moisturiser she found were meant for skin decades older than hers, bur her face seemed to tingle in appreciation. She smoothed a body cream into her shoulders and arms, before deciding she was too hungry to do the rest of her body and got herself dressed.

She almost laughed as she reached the balcony, Daryl was opening a can with a penknife.

"I thought you'd drowned in there," he muttered as he looked up. He paused before adding, "You look different. Cleaner."

She hadn't expected a compliment, but saying nothing would have been better than that response. "Clean! You should try it sometime," she said with a laugh.

"You cheeky little... agh!"

Blood. Lots of it.

Daryl had sliced into his hand with the penknife, or the lid of the can, or something. He was staring with wide eyes as blood dripped to the stone floor. "That's deep," he said vaguely and Beth began to move.

From her stack of kitchen supplies she grabbed a couple of tea towels and grabbed his wrist with them, holding his hand up.

"It's fine..." he said, pulling his hand into himself.

"Let me see, Daryl. Let me see."

He brought his hand down, opened it a little and she saw the blood pulse out.

"You need stitches."

"I need stitches."

Their words overlapped each others.

"The first aid kit's inside, come on..." Beth tried to hold his injured left hand up, as they stumbled inside.

He sat heavily on the sofa and she made him prop up his injured hand on the high armrest.

"You done these before?"

"No, but I've seen Daddy do them..." Her wide eyes were full of fear.

"You can do this. You can." Daryl tried to convince her, and maybe himself.

"I can, I'm fine, you can't lose your hand."

She heard him hiss in a breath and realised how stupid that comment was. His brother.

The realisation of what she had to do weighed heavy. Without both hands hands Daryl couldn't load his crossbow, couldn't ride his bike.

"I can do this," she said as she began to prepare.

"Pass me that vodka," Daryl asked, his voice a hoarse rasp.

The bottle from the garden shed, found just the night before, had ended up inside the First Aid Kit. "I don't need that, I have proper cleaning swabs," Beth explained.

"Pass me the vodka."

Beth screwed the top off the bottle and passed it too him, watching as he took a long slug. "You need painkillers. Of course. Mrs Grant had some."

"Who?" Daryl called after her, but Beth was running for the bathroom. She came back with half a dozen pill bottles and dumped them on the seat next to him.

"Do you know what they are? I'm not sure," she said, as he scowled at one of the labels, then another.

She was trying to stop his bleeding when he passed her a little bottle, she opened it and passed it back, all her concentration on his hand. The stitches had to be small, his hand had to be flexible. Willing herself to be calm, she began.

Two sutures in she realised her patient's head had dropped to his shoulder. "Daryl, Daryl, you got to stay awake. Daryl!"

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He was so comfortable. It was dark and warm and soft. Daryl couldn't remember feeling this comfortable in his whole life.

Something touched his wrist, a gentle touch, not a walker, nothing to worry about. He returned to his comfort.

He felt as if he was sinking into the chair. So relaxed.

Another touch at his neck. He didn't like that and moved his head.

There was a voice in the distance. Nothing to worry about, nothing that he would let disturb him.

His hand felt strange, maybe he should worry about that, maybe not.

The voice was still there, the voice sounded very insistent. Maybe he should open his eyes just for a moment.

"Daryl, please wake up. You got to wake up, Daryl please."

He opened his eyes as little as possible. There was a soft light and a golden angel in front of him, that seemed odd. The angel knew his name.

"Daryl, please stay awake. You're scaring me!"

"Sleep," he murmured.

"No! Stay awake. How does your hand feel? Can you move your fingers? Try, just a little. Stay awake!"

Daryl hadn't realised angels were so demanding. "Sorry, angel."

"What?"

He sat forward on the sofa a little, his whole body felt stiff and awkward. There was a brilliant white bandage on his left hand, it was a huge contrast to his tanned, grimy skin. He began to remember, he had cut his hand, then taken something, then things got dark and that's why Beth was panicking.

"I'm good," his words slurred a little, but he managed to stand. Beth jumped to her feet and held his arm to keep him steady. "Bathroom?"

Beth pointed him in the right direction and walked a couple of steps with him, until he seemed stable enough to walk alone. Once he closed the door, her legs trembled and she sank into his spot on the sofa as relief washed over her.

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Daryl returned from the bathroom feeling much more like himself, the icy water helped.

"How you feeling?" Beth asked anxiously.

"More awake, still a bit confused. What happened?"

Beth seemed even more alarmed at his reply. "You remember cutting your hand?"

"Kinda? You were sewing me up?" Daryl sat heavily on the other side of the sofa.

"You drank some vodka and I brought you the pills from the bathroom. What did you take?"

"You don't know?"

Beth gestured to the pill bottles between them. "You just handed me a bottle to open. I thought you would know."

Daryl looked at the labels, nothing seemed familiar. "How long was I out for? Weren't we about to eat?" It had been light outside then, it was dark now.

"Seemed like hours and hours. I got to get a watch."

"Okay, we won't take those again until we know what they are." Daryl tried to brush off the problem, he was furious with himself, but there was no point worrying about that now. He had more important questions. "How bad's my hand? Can I take a look?"

Beth came to sit on the footstool by his side and touched the ends of each of his fingers. "I'll change the bandage tomorrow, can you wait 'till then to see? Can you feel this?" Daryl nodded. "And move your fingers... gently! Does it hurt?"

"It's not too bad, feels like normal sutures."

"I was so scared, your pulse was so slow."

"You felt my wrist and neck. I remember that, but I was too relaxed to move."

"Well, I'm glad you were relaxed!" Beth's voice got a little high-pitched. "I though you were dying! I was trying to work out if I could kill you if you turned, but you'd have probably killed me and we'd have been stuck wondering this room forever."

"Beth, Beth…"

"I even opened the door to the balcony in the hope we'd go out there, fall off and land on our heads." Her eyes were bright with tears.

Daryl was no expert at coping with hysterical women, but he tried his best. "But we're okay, aren't we? And we'll get our sign done tomorrow and we'll find our family and be back to normal, well nearly."

Beth pulled in a breath and tried to calm down. He was still alive, so was she, and they'd find everyone, hopefully, but not tomorrow. "We can't do the sign tomorrow, you can't ride the bike with that hand."

"Yeah, I can."

"But Daryl, you'll pull out the stitches and could make it worse than ever. I'm sure in the 'normal world' a real doctor would make you wait at least a week. Just wait until the day after, please."

"Normal world?" Daryl repeated.

"Remember that place where we used to live."

"Only just." He admitted, looking at the bright bandage on his hand again. "Lets look at it in the morning or later on this morning. We should sleep."

As soon as he said the word sleep Beth realised how exhausted she was. Waiting for Daryl to wake had been terrifying, the thought that he might die, that she might be left to deal with his corpse had brought her so close to absolute panic. She had tried to believe that he would wake and might need her and she had to do what she had to do to help him. Her job was to stitch his hand, to try to wake him and now he was back, talking about making signs and finding their family. She was still worried about his hand but there was nothing she could do now, other than try to convince him not to use it.

A little stiff, she got up from the sofa so Daryl could rest on it.

"I'm sorry about your new shirt," he said as she stood.

Beth realised she was covered in his blood. "Maybe one day I'll be able to wear white again," she sighed. That day seemed far away.

.

It seemed to be late morning when Daryl woke, he had planned to leave and write their sign as early as possible, but slicing his hand open had messed that up. He supposed they had both needed sleep.

When he returned from the bathroom, Beth was sitting up in the huge bed.

"Good morning. Are you okay? How's your hand feel?"

"Not bad, I'd like to take a look at it though."

"Sure, straight after breakfast?"

"Could we look now?" He felt guilty asking, neither of them had eaten properly since breakfast the day before, but he needed to see how badly he was cut.

Beth nodded and moved to the far side of the bed to pull on the pants she'd been wearing the night before. She seemed to have slept in a huge t-shirt and went to the dressing room to collect more clothes before she went to the bathroom.

Daryl hadn't slept in anything but his jeans since the dead started walking. He always had his crossbow an arms reach from him too, maybe he could begin to relax a little here. That might take some getting used to.

.

They sat on the balcony so Beth could take the bandage off his hand in the daylight. She was nervous, feeling that he was inspecting her work. In a way he was doing just that, he needed to know how this cut was going to affect him. If it decreased his dexterity, then he was in trouble.

The relief was clear in Daryl's voice when the bandages were removed. "It's clean, it looks healthy. How many stitches did you fit in there?"

"I was sure you would lose a few, so I probably did more than I should." Beth admitted. "I was kinda hoping the needle would wake you."

"You must have felt like you were alone, I would've hated that too." Daryl ate breakfast with one hand, it wasn't as easy as he thought. He had to accept that holding on to the bike for a long while would not help his hand heal properly. "You're right about riding the bike today, but I don't want to delay the sign. How about we get the car going and you can drive us into town? I bet we can find a key, that'll make it easier."

Beth couldn't help blushing, "Sounds good, but I don't drive." Daryl looked so stunned, it might have been funny, but Beth was just embarrassed. "I practised in Daddy's truck, but I've not tried again since... everything..."

"Of course, sorry. That's okay we'll do the sign tomorrow. Should still get that car going though. Would you mind wrapping me up again?"

Beth felt awkward, useless even, but she bandaged his hand again and it was much neater than she expected considering how she felt. She should have asked for more driving lessons, but everyone seemed too busy even before the dead started walking, afterwards there was no chance, with no time or gas to spare.

"You did a real good job, Nurse." Daryl brought her back to here and now. Was he being sarcastic? Why did he call her Nurse? Was that all he thought she was? The nurse. The nanny.

Beth was too tightly wound to answer. She just gave him a half smile and went indoors.

"What would have happened if I'd hurt my hand and we'd been out somewhere on the bike?" Daryl asked, following her, he stood in the doorway.

Beth couldn't help getting defensive and snapped at him. "Well, we'd have stayed where we were or had a long walk."

Daryl knew Beth was upset, although he wasn't quite sure if it was his fault or what he might have done or said. He was at loss how to make things right again, but he know he needed to. In the prison there had been a few arguments that had festered between people, but there it was easy to avoid each other. There were only two of them now, she couldn't avoid him, he couldn't avoid her. He had to make things right, what would make her happy? There was only one place Daryl was truly happy these days, he was prepared to share. On impulse he announced, "I need to teach you how to ride my bike."

"You're kidding!"

"I don't kid... But we got to do the boring stuff first. If you lived in this house, where would you put the car keys?"

One minute ago Beth didn't think she would ever grin again, but she did then, "We'll find 'em.".

.

.

.

**I know it's not exactly in character for Daryl to injure himself, but I needed to make him a little vulnerable, so I let him get distracted for once. I'm writing Beth's emotions as up and down but I'm hoping that seems reasonable too, in the circumstances.**

**.**

**Huge thanks for the comments and favourites, I'm thrilled to reach 50 reviews in a new Fandom (new for me), so please let me know what you think.**

**.**

**18****th**** January 2014 ~ FanOTheFang on Twitter and Tumblr**


	6. Chapter 6

**Quick Update: Daryl and Beth have found their safe house, but Daryl has been injured and they are stuck there.**

.

_On impulse he announced, "I need to teach you how to ride my bike."_

"_You're kidding!" _

"_I don't kid... But we got to do the boring stuff first. If you lived in this house, where would you put the car keys?"_

_One minute ago Beth didn't think she would ever grin again, but she did then, "We'll find 'em."._

_._

The car keys were in the second place they looked. Not in the drawers of the hallway table, but in the drawer next to the door in the kitchen. Daryl wasn't exactly surprised that the car didn't start straight away, it had been sitting in the garage for a couple of years.

"I'll look at this. Why don't you check out the rooms upstairs?" Daryl handed Beth the keys to the house. "I'm sure it's empty, just be careful, really careful."

Beth was glad to be able to do something, as she certainly couldn't help with the car. She ran up the outside stairs and tapped on the dirty pane of glass just in case, there was no movement from inside, so she found the key and opened up. First, she checked the only door in the room which led to a tiny shower room, confident there were no hidden dangers she then took a proper look around. The large room was a studio flat, with a small kitchen in one corner, bed in the opposite corner and a worn two-seater sofa in the middle, which was pointing to a little television.

The small wardrobe had uniforms like the maid wore, this must have been her flat. Beth started her search of the room, she hoped it wasn't the only place that the maid had lived as there wasn't much to see. The previous owner was the same size as Beth had been before the world ended, the clothes were too big now but better than those in the house. A clean pair of jeans, a denim skirt, cute like one she had at home, a couple of faded tops and one t-shirt that was brand new, it still had the tags on. It had been bought in a sale and hung in the wardrobe, no one else had ever worn it. The same could not be said for the underwear, but Beth had won the same bra and panties for a week so she was happy to stuff everything into a plastic bag.

The little bedside table held more goodies. Tampons were a relief, although she hadn't needed them for around six weeks, no woman she'd spoken to had a regular period anymore, but having them she felt prepared. There were also ordinary painkillers, not very strong, but better than the mystery pills in the bathroom and a sealed pack of cigarettes. Daryl would be thrilled, she didn't think he'd had a smoke for a couple of days.

The kitchen had a bottle of water, a can of beans and a couple of packet soups, but nothing else edible. She took the ordinary can opener, wondering if she dare give that to Daryl too.

Leaving the room she thought of teasing him, asking if he could guess what she found, but he met her at the bottom of the stairs and she changed her mind.

"Got the car going. We can drive it into town, once we're sure the roads are clear. We'll be able to carry more stores then." Daryl sounded pleased with himself.

"Well done," Beth grinned back at him. "Your prize," she added as she handed him the cigarettes. She found it hard not to laugh as Daryl actually gasped in pleasure. "There is something we forgot to do though. The walker's still by the front door. Shouldn't we burn her, or bury her?"

"We've always said burn them, I'm not sure anymore if it makes a difference and a fire seems a lot for one body. Risky with the smoke too."

Beth waited as he wondered, this was definitely his domain.

"Lets check out what's on the other side of the front gates first, I want to see if there are other houses. We might find a burial plot too."

.

They collected weapons and Beth put Michonne's jacket over her clean t-shirt in the hope that it might last a day, then Daryl cautiously opened the gates. Just outside was a single lane road and an area that might once have been flowers and small trees but was now a dried, overgrown rectangle of ground.

Keeping a careful eye out for any trouble they walked around this space, there was a house next door with the same with trees, walls and gates as their house, then the road turned and there were another two houses facing theirs. They couldn't see into the gardens and Daryl wasn't about to go climbing with an injured hand but he planned to bring ladders out here and go through these houses soon. It was possible there would be walkers behind the high walls and gates, but unlikely that any humans were there, as surely they would have taken the food and drink from their house.

At one side of the area was an even larger double gate which must have been electric. Fortunately it could be manually operated too, Daryl found the key and took a quick look out to see the road that they had been travelling on when Beth had found the small gate. There were redundant security cameras on the gate and discreet advertisements for the security company that kept the little collection of houses safe. As Daryl locked up again he had to admit, they had done a great job, this place was relatively untouched by the outside world.

"We can bury our walker here, the ground's already churned up so the digging will be easier. I'll do that tomorrow." Daryl held his bandaged hand up in explanation.

"I can do it." Beth offered.

"How about you help me tomorrow? We should bury our rubbish too and the rotten stuff from the kitchen. But there's no point you getting tired before your riding lesson, do you still want to learn?"

"If you sure you trust me on your bike."

"'Course I do. C'mon."

They took some time to wrap the walker in a thick dust sheet from the garage and left her by the gate to deal with the next day.

As they collected his bike, Daryl did have slight reservations about teaching Beth, he'd never taught anyone how to ride, he had barely had lessons himself. Merle had shown him the basics and left him to practice. He'd had a couple of close shaves but Beth proved a lot more careful than Daryl had been at her age. He already knew she had good balance. She would never need to worry about road signs and would rarely come across other traffic. Daryl was impressed enough to let her do a circuit alone before he decided they were wasting gas and needed to have a very late lunch.

Whatever had bothered Beth earlier seemed to be forgotten, she chatted away asking about his bike, while she made a beef casserole using several cans and a spicy sauce.

Daryl concentrated on making arrows from cane and a plastic container he found in the garage. They weren't as strong as he would like, but they would penetrate a walkers skull, hopefully he wouldn't come across any humans who would need shooting.

While they ate he put a large pot of water on the fading barbecue, he had a coffee and a cigarette after his meal and sat with his feet on the balcony wall. Beth had a weird smelling fruit tea and got excited about being able to wash in warm water for once.

He found it strange, having a moment to relax in and it wasn't long before he started planning what they had to do the next day and the next, what items he had to find on his mental list, which were urgent and which were luxuries. He also resolved to have just one cigarette a day just in case he couldn't find any more.

When Beth returned from the bathroom he was about to suggest that they make a start cleaning the kitchen, but she looked clean and pink, flushed from the hot water so he changed tack. "Shall we look through the study, see if there's anything useful? A book would be good right now, as I can't do much else." Daryl unlocked their door with his healthy hand.

"Oh, we might find out more about Mr and Mrs Grant."

"Who is that?" Daryl asked, thinking he'd heard her sat 'Grant' before.

Beth jogged down the stairs ahead of him and picked up a framed photograph from the hallway table. "Mr and Mrs Grant. This is their house. They go on holiday a lot. Have you not seen the pictures?"

"I suppose I didn't take much notice of photographs," Daryl opened up the study and wondered where to start.

Beth followed him inside, still holding the frame. "See, they were on a cruise ship? Do you think all the little islands have been over run? Maybe there's an island in the Caribbean that doesn't have walkers, or Hawaii?"

"Maybe, I suppose, but I don't think they're coming to save us anytime soon. Please, sweetheart, don't get your hopes up."

Beth's heart skipped a beat when he called her 'sweatheart', she tried to not stumble over her next words. "No I wasn't but, it's nice to think there's somewhere safe. Maybe Mr and Mrs Grant were on holiday again?"

Daryl wasn't sure what to reply to that, he lit a couple of candles and started trying the cupboards under the bookcases. "Locked. Is the crowbar on the bike?"

"Yeah, but I bet we can find the keys," Beth sat at the desk and started checking drawers. "No need to break in, you'll spoil the wood."

"You know your Mr and Mrs Grant ain't comin' back to complain?"

"Of course, but we should keep the place decent. Daddy had a desk like this, the real old version, but I bet this still has hidden drawers."

Daryl didn't reply, he was almost waiting for her to get upset after mentioning her Father, but Beth ducked down under the desk. He left her to it and inspected the books until he heard a squeak of jubilation and Beth reappeared with a small drawer in her hand.

"We have more car keys, two little sets of keys, other stuff, but do you want to try with these..." She tossed Daryl a set of keys and he started opening up.

"Gun case!" He exclaimed after a few cupboards. "It's locked, lets try those other keys?"

Beth passed them to him and returned to the papers she was shuffling through on the desk. "Mrs Grant was seeing a doctor, she was on medication."

"Does it say what it's for?"

"No, but it cost a fortune."

"I bet it did," muttered Daryl as he got the case open. "Shit, not what I was hoping for." He checked the gun was empty before passing it Beth.

"How cute! It's tiny!"

"You should take it. There's not a lot of ammo though."

"I know it's a ladies gun but wouldn't it be better for you to have it?" Beth passed the dainty gun from hand to hand.

"I can barely get my finger in to squeeze the trigger," Daryl thought the last thing he needed was a gun he couldn't hold onto properly. "Try aim it, it won't be what you're used to as it's so short. Only use it if you have to and only if something's close, at least until you get used to it. No ammo for trying it out." Beth stood and aimed at the far wall, Daryl had to chuckle, "You look like a Bond Girl! Can I have it back? I'll clean it for you tonight."

Beth handed the gun back, hoping she didn't look too thrilled. That was a compliment. A real compliment. She sat back down and carried on looking through desk drawers not sure how to respond, or if she should respond.

Daryl checked through the rest of the locked cupboards expecting to find more guns, if the wife had a gun, surely the husband would, but it seemed not. Maybe he had taken his gun when he left the house, but why go to all the trouble of hiding the keys. Daryl had no idea, but he was sure there were no more guns in this room. Frustrated but resigned he scanned through the books, most of those on the shelves were leather bound, not really for reading, but one of the cupboards had a hidden stash of paperbacks.

He chose Papillon, thinking that a good film probably came from a good book and he like the idea of reading about a man trying to break out of prison after his time spent in one.

"Is there a book for you?" he asked Beth.

"Not really, I might look later, not tonight."

"Do you need anything down here before we go upstairs?"

"Ahh... yeah. I was gonna try some Champagne, you said there was some." Beth was looking at him as if she expected him to say she couldn't.

"Champagne? You tried it before?" he asked.

"No, but my Mom said I could try a glass at my cousins wedding, only the wedding never happened." She sounded defensive as she continued, "I think we should try it. Celebrate the house, we lived another day."

"Beth, I ain't gonna lecture you about the evils of alcohol, but we have to go do that sign tomorrow. I know from experience that a bike is one of the worst places in the world with a hangover, so if you ain't used to it, don't go too far."

"I promise..." Beth's grin lit up the room.

.

Daryl thought he would give Beth a little space, once he locked up their room he took the gun and gun cloth to the balcony while she stayed in the bedroom, drifting between the bathroom and the changing room. She'd asked him to have a drink with her but he'd declined, saying Champagne wasn't his thing.

He had advised cooling the bottle and she was planning to stand it in cold water in an ice bucket. After a while she popped the cork, he heard her laugh in surprise and thought she might have lost a glass as the bottle fizzed over. That was useful, he certainly wouldn't let her drink the whole bottle.

As the sun dropped he went inside, Beth was sitting in the armchair with loads of lotions and potions on the coffee table in front of her. The bottle of Champagne looked pretty full, although the glass looked almost empty. She was scowling at her hands and rubbing something into them.

"Your gun is good to go, I'll leave it with your jacket for tomorrow."

"Thank you, hope I don't need it."

"You and me, both. You finished in the bathroom?"

"I just need to rinse my hands," Beth held up her hands as if they were dirty but Daryl couldn't see a mark on them. "I'll be one second..."

"No rush. Does 'Mr Grant' have clothes in here too?" He gestured to the walk-in wardrobe.

"Not as many as Mrs Grant, but some. Are you getting changed?"

"Probably should or these jeans are gonna walk on their own too." Daryl went into the small room as Beth laughed as if she'd never heard that before.

If he had needed a suit and tie he would have been spoilt for choice, but there were no jeans. The best he could see were a pair of black work pants that had hardly been used. They were too big, but he had his belt to hold on to them and they had a lot of pockets. He'd been commando since they'd camped outside Atlanta, but he did appreciate the clean socks and a pair of leather gloves that he would need on the bike tomorrow. Most of the shirts were white but there was one that was dark grey and he picked a dark t-shirt too, it was probably time to sleep in something different.

He got out of his ancient clothes in the bathroom and washed in the icy water. He even used the nail brush that Beth had left on the side, maybe she'd left it there on purpose. The new clothes almost fit and he returned to the bedroom wearing the t-shirt, but carrying the shirt and gloves which needed adjusting.

Daryl was surprised to find Beth painting her toe-nails, he noted she was on her second glass of Champagne.

Beth saw him looking at her chosen activity and felt she needed to explain. "I know it's silly but it reminds me of Maggie... I can wash those for you when we get back tomorrow." She watched as Daryl dumped a bundle of clothes by the door.

"Thanks, but I think I'll just bury them with our walker." Daryl sat with his book, but didn't open it.

"Are you comfortable in your new clothes?"

"Yeah, they're not too bad... Are you comfortable? That thing holding on to your toes looks painful." Daryl had never seen this process before.

Beth laughed, "It's fine, better than getting polish everywhere."

"But how does this remind you of Maggie?" He was trying to remember, but he was sure he'd not seen either sister with painted nails before.

Beth smiled to herself and began her story. "When Maggie was about fourteen she was a bit of a rebel. She sulked because Daddy wouldn't let her wear finger nail polish to school. She decided painting my toe nails would get back at him, then she let me do hers. I was thrilled, she didn't usually let me spend much time with her. I was just her spoilt little sis.

"Maggie was reading a magazine and not taking much notice of me. I couldn't decide which colour she would like best, so I used three colours on different nails. Poor Maggie was trying to look cool and I made her look ridiculous. Daddy laughed so hard he couldn't get angry with her. Painting our toes was just something that Maggie and I did after that."

Beth rubbed her nose fiercely and began clearing away everything from the coffee table. She was angry with herself for getting upset, that hadn't been the plan for the evening. The drink was nice, but she feeling a little woolly headed, and wasn't sure if she felt like laughing or crying.

She excused herself and escaped Daryl's sympathetic gaze by running to the bathroom, where she tidied all of Mrs Grant's things away and tried to make herself feel calmer. The icy water was very effective at cooling reddened eyes and she pulled herself back to the thoughts of everything she had wanted to say to Daryl tonight.

Not knowing what he thought of her was driving her crazy. She could feel her emotions bouncing all over the place. He was probably not interested and knowing that would be horrible, but better than not knowing. He might like her, maybe, he might really like her and that thought scared her a little too. But she needed to know.

.

Daryl looked up from his book as Beth returned from the bathroom, "You feeling okay?

"I'm fine, sorry if I rambled on a bit."

"You didn't." Daryl had liked her story about her family, he didn't have tales like that to tell.

"I suppose the drink is making me a little weird, I won't have any more after this glass." She promised and Daryl felt a little relieved. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure..." Daryl was surprised that Beth chose to sit on the sofa next to him, there were plenty of other places. "But I can't promise to answer," he added, just in case.

"Before we all got split up, a few people thought you and Carol were a couple."

Daryl hid his surprise by saying, "That's not a question."

"Or maybe that you and Michonne were?"

"Who's 'a few people'?" Now he was having trouble hiding his irritation.

"No one really, it's just what I heard. You used to go out on runs with Michonne a lot."

"Yes and we used to bring a lot of supplies back for everyone. We were risking our necks, what did you think we were up to?"

Beth's face was on fire with embarrassment, she got up from her seat clumsily. "Okay, I'm sorry. Working in the kitchen and laundry got a bit boring, we were just talking."

"Gossiping you mean. Carol's a friend, a good friend we been through a lot together, but that's it. Michonne's great, but that's it. Sorry to spoil your fun, but you would be a more interesting subject of gossip than me." Daryl heard the sarcasm in his voice and knew he should stop talking, but he didn't. "How do you know that the people who talked to you about me, weren't talking about you and Zach to other people?"

"That was a long time ago," Beth whispered as she drank the last little bit of her drink and shifted from one foot to another in front of him. "I'm sorry, I'm just not sure if I know you that well. I just wondered if you were with someone." He didn't look like he was about to bite her head off again, so she knelt in the seat next to him, tucking her feet up as he looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Was there a girl before everything?" Beth asked quietly.

Daryl wasn't sure how to reply, but he wasn't about to explain to Beth his history of drunken one night stands, friends with benefits and other various women who had wanted to add the excitement of a 'bad guy' to their boring lives. He decided to laugh off the question. "Are you building up courage to ask me if I'm gay?"

Beth was so surprised, that the next words bounced straight out of her mouth. "No, no! I just wanted to ask if you liked me."

"Beth?" Daryl wasn't sure if he had heard her wrong.

The words came tumbling out of her, "Because I like you, I have for ages and I just thought, well, I hoped..." Beth vaguely registered that Daryl was looking stunned, she ran out of words and panicked. There was only one thing she could think of and she didn't think it through, she just went with it and kissed him.

Daryl's first reaction was to move his head back, but he didn't move away.

His lips felt soft compared to his scratchy beard. His lips were moving against hers. He was kissing her back. He was. Beth felt his tongue brush her lips and taste her. She let her tongue flick against his and heard herself moan, she had never made a noise like that before. Full of nervous excitement she edged closer to him, her hand gently touched his thigh.

.

**I've been planning Beth's first drink for a while and I was going to cut the chapter off a little before the kiss, but I thought it would be nice to share that moment. **

**As I think I've said, the story is planned out but it's taking longer to write than I thought. I feel like I have a deadline to get a large part of the story done before TWD starts up again!**

**.**

**Huge thanks again for all the support, review and favourites. It's really appreciated. **

**I'm away this weekend so I can't reply to any queries straight away, but I will when I return. **

**.**

**24th January 2014 ~ FanOTheFang on Twitter and Tumblr**


	7. Chapter 7

**Quick Update: Daryl has begun to teach Beth how to ride the bike. Beth, with a little help from a couple of glasses of champagne, decided to kiss Daryl...**

**.**

_His lips felt soft compared to his scratchy beard. His lips were moving against hers. He was kissing her back. He was. Beth felt his tongue brush her lips and taste her. She let her tongue flick against his and heard herself moan, she had never made a noise like that before. Full of nervous excitement she edged closer to him, her hand gently touched his thigh._

.

This was wrong and Daryl knew it. She was Hershel's daughter, his youngest, grieving daughter, she'd been drinking, he was suppose to be taking care of her, but not like this. Her hand brushed his thigh and didn't move away. Finally he came to his senses, he turned his head and stood, almost climbing over the arm of the chair to get away from her.

They both stared at each other, trying to catch their breath until he spoke, "Beth, this ain't right."

"What was wrong? That wasn't wrong?"

"It was wrong! I can't be like that with you, not after you been through so much."

"You kissed me back!"

"I shouldn't have, I'm sorry."

She was standing, facing him now, her face stricken and when she reached for his arm he stepped back. Beth was beginning to understand, he had kissed her, but he didn't want her. Had she made a huge mistake? She took a small step, closing the gap between them but she didn't know what to say except, "Daryl, please?"

There were tears in her eyes, blurring her vision. She shouldn't cry in front of him, that would make everything worse.

Daryl saw the tears and felt a wave of guilt. He couldn't stop himself brushing from one from her cheek, "Sweetheart, don't..."

"Don't call me sweetheart, not in that voice, not when you're pushing me away! Don't call me nurse or angel either! It's not fair!"

Surprised at her temper, Daryl held up his hands and stepped back from her. "I'm sorry... What voice?"

"Stop it! Just stop being so damn nice!" Beth ran from him, she bolted to the dressing room and slammed the door between them.

.

Daryl was shocked that everything thing had gone from good to bad so quickly. He had to talk to Beth, but a closed door was a closed door. He couldn't go barging in there, but she couldn't stay in there forever either.

He needed some air and went to the balcony taking the barely drunk bottle of champagne with him. He threw it from end to end over the balcony wall and listened out for the thud as it hit the lawn below.

He was trying to recall what she had said, but the main thing he remembered was that he had kissed her. She had kissed him first, but he had kissed her back and that was so wrong. He could taste her on his lips and his new work trousers were becoming uncomfortably tight. She'd kissed him! Beautiful, little Beth had kissed him and he could feel where her hand had touched his thigh as if it were scorched.

The last woman he kissed had been long forgotten, that part of his life had been put away. There were more important things now: staying alive, keeping his new family alive and more recently getting their group back together.

When he thought about it, which was rarely, he had come to the conclusion that there was no point trying for any type of relationship. Relationships were difficult enough before everything had gone to shit, now they were just impossible. Rick and Lori were an example of how difficult it was and they were together before. Tyreese and been with Karen ten minutes and she had been killed. He wasn't going to put himself through that.

What the hell was he thinking about relationships for? This was nothing like that, nothing.

Why had she gotten it in her head to kiss him? She had been talking about Carol and Michonne, she thought he had been with them, did she think he was like that? Moving from one woman to another? Did she think that now they were away from everyone that he expected that from her?

The next thought sickened him. Maybe Beth thought she had to offer herself to him or he wouldn't take care of her?

Beth was probably the sweetest, nicest girl he had ever met, if she thought that then surely everyone else with dirtier minds and more experience would too. Had the whole prison thought he was sleeping around, using their women?

Bleak thoughts were coming too fast now. Had someone warned her about him? In his head he could hear Hershel, 'Bethy, you stay away from that old redneck, he's great for getting us food, killing the walkers and doing the dirty work, but I don't want my darling daughter getting caught alone with him.'

.

When he heard the door to the changing room open he went to stand in the open doorway. "Beth, I'd like to talk to you."

"I... I'm really sorry I shouted at you. I shouldn't have done, but please, I need to sleep. Can we talk tomorrow?"

Her voice was clearly shaking, was she scared of him now? He knew he couldn't force her to talk. "Okay, tomorrow. I'll go sleep somewhere else."

"No, there's no need. Unless you want to."

Daryl thought gloomily 'She probably thinks I'm gonna run off and leave her.'

"I'll stay, I'm gonna have a smoke, give you some space," he said out loud and closed the door to try and give her some privacy.

She had looked miserable, he felt the same as he stared out into the darkness. He broke his new rule of one cigarette a day more than once that night.

.

Eventually Daryl went inside, they were going out of the house tomorrow, he shouldn't risk that on no sleep. Beth had a lit candle in a glass holder on her bedside table, he was relieved that at least she was sleeping, one of the benefits of a little alcohol.

The sofa was comfortable and he did drift into a light sleep, until Beth got up to use the bathroom, he saw her hurry past the end of his makeshift bed in a huge, white bathrobe.

By the time she returned he was stood at the opposite side of the room to her bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Embarrassed," she muttered.

"I meant after the drink?"

"My head's a bit fuzzy, but okay, I suppose."

"You'll feel the benefit of the painkillers and the water tomorrow." He nodded to her bedside table, where he had put what she might need.

He gave her a little time to take the pills then launched into saying, "I know you want to sleep, but I got to tell you something, Beth. If I don't, I'll never sleep and I just need to say this."

"Okay," Beth looked like she was preparing to have her teeth pulled.

"You didn't need to do that tonight. I ain't expecting anything like that from you... I don't know what you might have heard about me, but I'm not like that. I ain't gonna leave you. You don't need to offer yourself to me to make me stay." Even as he said it, it sounded dumb.

"You think I kissed you to keep you here?" Beth sounded astounded. "Daryl! I know you're not _expecting_ anything and I know you're not going to leave me. That's not you!"

"Well why then?"

"I like you Daryl, I told you that. You are actually nice, I know made that sound horrible earlier, but you are the good kind of nice. And, and, well I had a silly crush on you back at the prison and I suppose I just wanted to know if you liked me."

Daryl was still stood at the other side of the room, looking at his feet. Beth wasn't sure how to get a reaction from him. "You did kiss me back," she said in a whisper.

"Beth, you'd had a drink, you weren't falling down drunk, but you weren't sober either. What kinda douche does that make me? Kissing you back like that."

"You don't want me at all do you?"

Daryl moved across the room, he was beginning to feel ridiculous stood in the furthest corner from her. "I didn't say that. I just don't think we should be thinking about this. We just got to concentrate on finding everyone."

"I'm not saying we should stop looking." Beth was tired and frustrated, but at least he seemed to be willing to talk so she tried to work out what his problem was. "Do you think I'm just a kid?"

"No, I know your not, I watched you grow up remember. I am a lot older than you though."

"I might be only eighteen, but I've not just spent two years in high school. Living like we're living now makes you grow up so much faster, just a month like this must be worth years in the normal world."

"Don't use that equation on me, I'd be ancient." Daryl huffed out a laugh and shook his head at the thought. He sat on the arm of the sofa that he should have be sleeping upon and decided to carry on. "I know you're not a kid but you are too nervous though, scared even."

"Of course I'm nervous. I never… well…" Beth froze, looking down at her bed covers.

"Beth, you can't even say _it_."

"I'm a virgin. Okay, I said it."

"No!" Daryl's voice was so high pitched in surprise he sounded like he had back when he was a virgin. "I didn't mean that you should say it. It's none of my business."

"It is your business. I want it to be your business." She looked him straight in the eye, her heart pounding so hard she thought he might see it.

Daryl had to admit to himself that she was making him nervous. She was taking this way too fast and he thought that could be disastrous. "What if we try this and it goes wrong? We might end up hating each other, stuck together in this house."

"You're talking about us breaking up and we aren't together yet."

Daryl couldn't help but smile, she probably had no idea she was paraphrasing a sappy song from back when he was a kid. Beth was looking tired and he felt the same. They were not going to get anything resolved tonight, but he hoped that they would at least be friends in the morning. "Lets get some sleep. Busy day tomorrow."

"But I still don't know where I stand with you."

I took Daryl a moment to speak. "I'm surprised and flattered and... really surprised, so I don't know. I need to think about it. You need to think about it. Until then nothing's changed, we're gonna find our people and stay safe, and right now we're gonna sleep."

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Beth awoke to a strange sweet smell as a mug was put on the bedside table by her head. Daryl stepped back as she sat up. "Morning, how's the hangover?"

"Ahh, okay, I think. I'm fine."

"Your fruit tea is supposed to rehydrate, sooth headaches and settle upset stomachs. It's a hangover cure in everything but name. I was reading up."

It was too early for this amount of information, Beth felt very confused. "Thank you. How long have you been awake?"

"Quite a while, breakfast is on, you got five minutes to get up." He was walking out to the barbecue on the balcony.

"Aren't we gonna talk about last night?"

"Nope, we did enough talking last night. Today is all business, we have a sign to paint… and we gotta get some powdered milk, not enjoying tomato soup for breakfast, but fruit won't keep us full all day." He had his back to her and was dealing with the barbecue.

Beth got the message, he was definitely not talking about last night. She looked around for her dressing gown from the night before, it was just by her bed but then she had an idea. She was wearing one of Mr Grant's huge t-shirts as a night shirt, it was longer than a few skirts that she had once owned, but she had only worn pants since leaving the farm. She decided to leave the robe and went to the door of the balcony. "Mmm, smells good," she said brightly.

"Really?" Daryl turned around in surprise and saw more of her than he expected.

She could see his eyes lingering on her legs, a thrill of excitement ran through her. "I'll be ready in a second," she managed to say then turned to go into the bathroom. All of a sudden she was very aware of her bottom as she walked away from him, was he still watching? She daren't look back to find out.

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Daryl's bike was laden down with provisions for their trip into town, as usual he had his crossbow and various weapons but he also had the can of pink paint strapped to one side. He had taped it up in a plastic bag so he wasn't risking getting paint everywhere. He would have taken the car, but couldn't be confident that the road was clear all the way. At least the paintbrushes didn't take up much space.

Beth had her backpack and more plastic bags just in case they came across useful provisions, but they weren't in desperate need of anything and there were three other houses in their little estate to go through soon. He knew she had the ladies handgun zipped in her jacket pocket, it was too small to tuck in a belt, and he was really hoping she wouldn't need it. Once dressed she had sat and had breakfast with him, neither of them mentioned her little show, but he had a feeling he might recall her long legs a little too often.

"Am I gonna have a practice run before we go?" Beth asked, Daryl had said the day before that she should ride the bike everyday until she became proficient.

"Maybe not today, it will heavier with the paint and might unbalance you."

"Okay... but if I ever do need to ride it, the bike probably won't be empty, it's always carrying something. Shouldn't I practice when it's heavy?"

He had to admit, she had a point. "You need to be even more careful than ever, off you go. Let's see what you can remember."

Beth concentrated on the bike and tried to put it's owner out of her mind. It felt different as soon as she got on because she had put her boots on today rather than yesterday's training shoes. She had decided the day could get messy so she put her cut off denim shorts on too. They hadn't washed very well, if she got paint, or worse, all over them, she would give in and throw them away.

She was pleased that she remembered what she needed to and road the bike around the top corner of their estate then parked while Daryl caught her up. "Why'd you stop? You okay?"

"Did I do alright?"

"Sure."

"It is really different with the different weight. I need to try with you on the back." Beth decided.

"No way!"

"If we were outside and you cut your hand again, I wouldn't be riding off without you, I'd need to be riding off with you on the back of the bike. That shouldn't be the first time we try it." He still looked undecided, so Beth continued. "Daryl, don't you trust me? You taught me."

"Just to the gate," he insisted as he got on the back of the bike. "And careful, if both of us get hurt we'll regret this."

Beth had anticipated the change of weight on the bike, but she hadn't realised just how close Daryl would be. Even though he chose to hold the back of the bike, his inner thighs were against her butt, if she wasn't leaning forward his body would be against hers.

The short ride to the gate brought a huge change to Daryl that Beth hadn't quite expected, but she realised she should have done. He was hard against her bottom and lower back, he had tried to move back but she knew he had no where to go.

Daryl had expected this would happen as soon as he sat behind her. If he the kiss hadn't happened the previous night, maybe he could have stayed in control but more feelings than he was used to experiencing were filling him. A beautiful blonde in denim and leather, on his bike, was enough of sight to interest him, no matter how much of a cliché it might be. He concentrated on her thick ponytail, but the memory of her lips against his was too fresh in his mind. She had said she liked him, that she had been thinking about him a long while. He was stunned. How had she gone from sweet to sexy in twelve hours? And how was she still sweet?

Once Beth stopped the bike, Daryl didn't move other than to put his feet down to steady them. Beth sat a little straighter, putting herself even closer to him. She put her head to one side and spoke softly, "Are you thinking about last night?"

"I'd have to be a machine not to be," Daryl replied gruffly.

"I want us to be together," Beth whispered, while thinking should I kiss him? Should I touch him?

"I'm still just thinking, Beth. Slow down."

"But..."

"I ain't no saint, Beth. It would be impossible not to react, but slow down. Okay."

Beth turned back to face the front of the bike and nodded, miserably.

"Could you get the gate? We got work to do." Daryl knew he sounded rude, but he had to get her off the bike before his resolve broke.

He kept his eyes off Beth as she opened the gate and locked up again after he had gone through it. He was remembering all the stupid ways he learnt as a kid to get control in awkward situations. The alphabet backwards was a good one, but his mind was a blank on what came before z.

He realised Beth was looking awkwardly at him, she wasn't sure whether to get on the bike or not. He nodded behind him, so she climbed onto her usual spot and put her hands on his waist. "That okay?" she asked anxiously.

"Fine. We need to concentrate out here, neither of us should get distracted." He felt her head nod in reply as he set off towards town.

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**No cliffhanger this week, although I can't promise there won't be more of them. You've got to trust me, I won't desert them or this story! **

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**Huge thanks for the Follows and Favourites (and Kudos on AO3) ~ Loving the comments too, they are huge motivation! **

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**Next chapter see's them leave the house! It's been a while.**

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**31st January 2014 ~ FanOTheFang on Twitter and Tumblr**


	8. Chapter 8

**Quick Update: Beth has kissed Daryl, but he's unsure and trying to slow her down. They are going to paint their "Lil' Ass Kicker" sign to try and find their family. Daryl warns that they should not get distracted when out of the house. **

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The walkers were clearly returning, not in big groups, three together at most, but more than Daryl and Beth had seen since they had left the prison. They were none near their house, but more as they got closer to the built up areas.

As they reached the town, Daryl kept his eyes open for walls for their sign. They came across one that would have been a perfect spot, but it was painted white and their pale pink paint wouldn't work. Already Daryl planned a second sign in black paint on this wall, so he went further into town to paint their first sign away from it. He decided on the wall on one side of a shop that was on what seemed to be the main intersection of the town.

"Here's good," he said, driving into an alley nearby. "You keep a look out, I'll get painting."

"I can paint, you're a much better look out than me and there's four roads to keep an eye on."

Daryl didn't argue and he was impressed that she worked quickly and tidily. He would have put the letters higher, but there was no need as it was the eye line of a car or anyone walking by. He disposed of only two nosy walkers and when he returned from collecting his arrows, Beth had painted "Lil' Ass Kicker" finishing off with a large question mark.

"It's a question?" He asked.

"If I left it as a statement someone might think we had Judith safe. I can't imagine what Rick would feel like if he saw this and thought we had her, but it was only us two."

"We'd probably be a disappointment," agreed Daryl. "Lets check out a couple of shops, we can't carry much but we might find something."

"We could try that pharmacy, even though it's just a little one. More bandages would be good if you decide to slice your hand open again." Beth looked slyly up at Daryl, who was clearly trying to hide a rueful grin.

The pharmacy did not look promising, the shelves in the front of the shop were practically empty but Daryl went straight through to the storeroom at the back. He wasn't the first to try it, there was no longer glass in front of the shelves that would have held the drugs and not a great deal left. He broke into the drawers of a work desk with Beth's crowbar, she grabbed an almost full packet of ordinary painkillers, while he took a bunch of keys. He assumed most were for the smashed cabinets but there were larger door keys on there too.

The back exit led to a corridor with two locked doors that Daryl was able to open, one was a staff toilet with nothing of use, but the other was a small store with non-medical stock. "Right, we can't carry too much, might be worth coming back here, but lets get a little of everything."

He started filling a plastic bag with bandages and antiseptic wipes from the top shelves. Beth was checking the lower shelves, she flushed but grabbed a box of tampons even though she had some already, Daryl didn't seem to notice. There wasn't anything too useful so she grabbed facial wipes because washing in icy water was horrible in the mornings and dry shampoo, which was a major treat. Maggie hadn't found any for months.

What she saw next, she should have just stuffed in her bag, but she was surprised and gasped audibly. Daryl looked down in time to see Beth shoving a whole sealed packet of Trojan condoms into her bag. "No! Beth, we said we weren't talking about this out here."

"I'm not talking, I'm just taking them."

"Don't."

It was difficult to tell who was more embarrassed Beth or Daryl, but Beth stood her ground. "It would be a mistake not to take them when they're here."

Daryl was furious at himself for wanting to grab them out of her bag, in frustration he turned on his heel. "I'll be right outside."

Beth took a second to compose herself, she sat on the floor of the little store taking deep breaths. She was sure she had done the right thing, after what had happened earlier this morning she was so sure she had done the right thing. The memory came back of him sat close behind her on the bike and she felt herself blush again. Telling herself to be sensible and concentrate, she grabbed a large bottle of vitamins, fastened the bag and went into the shop.

She'd expected to see Daryl through the window, but there was no sign. Had he said he'd meet her outside or by the bike? To be careful she held her knife in her hand and walked quickly down the deserted street. A flare of panic ran through her as she saw the bike standing alone where they had left it. Where was Daryl? She couldn't panic, she just had to wait. Would he be back at the pharmacy? She stepped back into the street. There was no sign of him. Had she made him so angry that he had left? No. There was no chance of that, she knew he wouldn't leave her, he certainly wouldn't leave his bike.

Daryl would be here in a second. Beth had just managed to convince herself of that when the end of the alley was filled with three bodies, men not walkers, because walkers didn't speak.

"Hello Blondie, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

As one they stepped towards her, Beth stepped back but she almost tripped over her own feet. She was cornered.

"Don't worry, we don't mean you no harm. I'm Andy, this is Buck and Sonny."

Beth's eyes flicked to Buck and Sonny, they were older than Andy, who was probably only a couple of years older than her. Other than that all three merged into one another, a human wall between her and safety.

"And what's your name?" Andy was clearly the voice of the little group.

"Elizabeth," she stammered, not sure why she used her full name.

"A pretty name for a pretty girl," Andy nodded and looked back at his companions who nodded along. "You don't need the knife, hon, we ain't gonna hurt ya."

"Are you all alone, little girl?" Buck, or maybe Sonny, asked in a fake sympathetic voice that made her skin crawl.

"Yeah, I lost my group," she said, thoughts were running through her mind, tripping over themselves. He wouldn't ask that if they'd seen Daryl, that was good. Now, how was she going to get away from them?

Was that Daryl? That was Daryl! Had she just seen his head appear around the wall of the alley or was she imagining him?

She focussed on Andy, the one in the middle, as he asked. "Did you write that sign? The Ass Kicker sign?"

"Yes, that's me. That's what they call me, I was trying to find my group. We got split up." Beth was babbling because she saw Daryl again. There he was. It was him. She kept her face straight and continued to look scared, that didn't require much acting.

"So the bike's yours?" Andy didn't seem convinced.

"Kinda," Beth shrugged.

"Real good lookin' piece o' machinery," one of the men at the back leered, and Beth knew he wasn't talking about the bike.

Daryl made the universal sign for "keep 'em talking" and took a careful step into the alley, just as the three men were chuckling over their own jokes. He could see Beth had her tiny knife in her hand, the three men had one rifle between them, but two were carrying hunting knives, bigger than Beth's. He knew she had that little gun, but if she drew that, she might not last too long.

Beth tried to concentrate. Keep talking, keep talking. What about? The weather? "Have you been in town long? Have you seen anyone who might have been from my group?"

"We ain't seen no one for weeks. Don't worry about your other group. You can join us. We'll take good care o'you." Andy was still spokesman.

Behind him there was a snicker, "So long as she takes good care of us."

Daryl had his crossbow, but it wasn't useful in this situation. If he shot one, he still had two to deal with and they were too close to Beth. He held his axe in his right hand and his knife in his injured left hand, it was beginning to ache from over use, but he was sure his grip was strong enough.

Beth decided not to hear that last comment. "The group I was with had more people, safety in numbers."

"You just need to worry about the three of us now."

Beth saw Daryl take another step and felt a little bolder. "I'm more worried that you're gonna tear me into three pieces."

Buck gave a harsh laugh, "I'll split you in two with what I got for you."

It was the last thing he ever said, as Daryl's axe split his head open. As Sonny turned, Daryl jabbed at him with the knife in his left hand, he shrieked, but once Daryl's axe was free from Buck's skull, he planted it in Sonny face. Two down...

Beth reacted instinctively but didn't aim. She just flashed her knife towards Andy, splitting his stomach. He wailed and bent a little, trying to hold himself together. Her second stab was better, right into his ear. The wailing stopped, as he slumped to the floor.

There was blood everywhere, bright red blood, not like the dark black goop that came out of the walkers. These men had certainly been alive, their blood shone with life even as they were dying.

"Nicely done!" Daryl grinned at Beth, but then saw her body shudder. She wretched and tried to cover her mouth, but still threw up over Andy's feet as she turned.

She certainly wasn't the first person to vomit after killing a man, Daryl collected knives and the gun from the corpses and gave Beth a moment of quiet. Once she'd emptied her stomach again, she murmured, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"You got nothing to be sorry about, come over here..." Daryl went to the bike for a bottle of water. Awkwardly Beth stepped around the bodies to join him. "Your hand?" Embarrassed she held out the hand that she'd vomited through and Daryl splashed water over it and her jacket to clean her up a little, then handed her the bottle. "Rinse your mouth, then we have to get out of here. They didn't die quietly. There's gotta be walkers on their way."

He went to the mouth of the alley to grab the plastic bag of supplies that he had left, already there were three walkers ambling down the street.

"Okay, we gotta go..." He stashed everything in the sides of the bike and climbed on, Beth looked dazed. Totally understandable, but he had to get her moving. He came close to reaching for her arm, but realised a girl who'd just been threatened with what Beth had just been threatened with would not want to be touched. "Beth, please, I gotta get you home. Beth!"

.

He'd dodged half a dozen walkers getting out of town, but now they were on the road home and Beth was holding on tight enough for Daryl to push the bike. His initial thrill at killing men who deserved to die was wearing off. How was Beth going to cope with this? How could he help her cope with this? He had no idea, but getting her somewhere safe and familiar seemed like a good place to start.

He realised she probably couldn't hear him but he called over his shoulder, "Almost there," to try and get a reaction out of her. She had hardly moved since getting on the bike. The reaction he got wasn't what he expected. Beth urgently thumped his back, not knowing what was wrong, Daryl slowed to a halt, while looking around for trouble.

As he stopped, she struggled to get off the bike quickly, she got her leg caught and stumbled forward. From his seat, Daryl grabbed her rucksack and slowed her fall, she got her balance a little but still fell forward onto her hands and knees. She was sick again, but there was clearly not much left in her stomach.

Daryl scrambled to get off the bike himself and went to her side. Beth was sobbing as he helped her up, her hands were red and bleeding, he stopped her rubbing them together and splashed water on them to remove the worst of the dirt and blood. "We'll clean them up properly when we get inside. Next time, you should threw up on me, rather than hurt yourself."

Beth wasn't really listening and nodded miserably.

"Do you want to walk or ride the rest of the way? See the gate's just up ahead?"

Beth gestured that she'd rather walk and they set off, with her trying to dry her face with a little tissue and walking very slowly and stiffly. "It serves me right," she whispered.

"What?"

"I wanted you, but you didn't want me. They wanted me, but I didn't want them."

"It's not the same Beth!" Daryl replied angrily. Beth stopped and glared up at him as he continued, "It's not and you know it. Or you will when... when you've thought it through."

"You mean when I've calmed down! Oh, I just need to calm down!" Beth's voice dripped in sarcasm.

"No! You've got every reason to be fucking furious! But none of that was your fault." His own feelings of guilt made Daryl's anger fade. "If anything I shouldn't have left you alone."

"It would have been worse if they had seen you. They might have killed you straight away."

"Exactly, so they are the bad guys. Not your fault. Not mine."

"I never killed a man before," she said quietly. "Not one that was so close."

"They weren't men. Worse than walkers." Daryl muttered, while trying to catch a look at her face. "If I could go back and kill them again, I'd be happy to, but now I just want to get you home."

Beth didn't reply, she just sighed. She was walking uncomfortably, she really had hit the road with a bang. Daryl wanted to help her but he knew he shouldn't touch her, not after what she had just been threatened with. He walked slowly alongside her and kept an eye out for trouble.

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Beth knew she was dreaming but she wasn't ready to wake yet. Three vague figures who could have been Andy, Buck and Sonny, were pulling at her, tugging her in all directions. They turned into walkers, like people in dreams do, and began chewing on her. They were eating her back, it was a strange kind of pain, that wasn't normal. She moved to get more comfortable and go back to sleep but she ached, she needed the bathroom, she had to open her eyes.

There was a lit candle on the bedside table, Daryl must have put it there. All was quiet and dark on his side of the huge room.

He had cleaned up her hands when they had got home, her knees too. She felt like a child again with scabs on her knees and tears in her eyes. Daryl had opened a tin of very plain soup, but she hadn't wanted to eat much in case she threw up again. It wasn't long before she claimed she was tired and went to bed. She heard Daryl screw the top off a glass bottle, presumably alcoholic and go on to the balcony. Eventually she had slept.

Landing on all fours on the road had shocked her body, as she woke she was very aware of the aches in her arms and legs. And her back, there was a familiar feel to that ache, it went along with stomach cramps. Beth realised her time of the month had appeared around eight weeks since the last time. Great. Slowly, she hobbled to the bathroom.

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**Just wanted to confirm that this doesn't get too angsty. That's not really what I write, I promise!**

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**Thanks again for all the comments and follows (and over 60 Kudos on AO3!) **

**I'm so excited for TWD starting up again – Time for Bethyl to begin!**

**In the UK we get to see it about 20 hours after the US so please try to avoid sharing any spoilers in any comments – Thank you! **

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**7th February 2014 ~ FanOTheFang on Twitter and Tumblr**


	9. Chapter 9

**Quick Update: After painting the "Lil' Ass Kicker" sign, Beth and Daryl killed three men who threatened Beth. **

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When Beth woke next it was morning, she could hear Daryl moving around, but she pretended to sleep a little more. She wasn't prepared to face the day yet, so lay still for a while hoping for sleep, but eventually Daryl came to her side and left a fruit tea. "How you feeling?"

"I ache," she admitted, embarrassed that he had known she was awake.

"I opened fruit for breakfast, if you want some?"

Beth nodded against her pillow. "We going into town today?"

"Nah, I figure they'll be plenty of walkers feeding after yesterday. We'd best stay away. Go tomorrow, check our sign and paint another, in another part of town."

"Right."

"I want to get our walker buried and get the rotten stuff out of the kitchen." Daryl waited for Beth to respond. It took her a while.

"I might try sleep a little longer."

That wasn't what he expected, Beth was all about helping out, doing what she should for the group. He decided to leave her be and get some work done.

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The stench in the kitchen was still strong, it wasn't going to fade. When they had returned yesterday he'd noticed it more than when they had been on the house a couple of days. He opened the windows and the door, then went to the garage hoping to find gardening gloves because even he wasn't prepared to do this bare handed.

The voices in his head were beginning to argue. 'You giving her an easy time cos she's a pretty girl?' 'I'm giving her an easy time cos she almost got gang-raped yesterday.' 'Shit like that happens these days.' 'Well in the old days she'd need years of therapy to get through what she's been through the last couple o'weeks.' 'I suppose it's okay to give her the day off.' 'How's she gonna deal with all this, with only you to help her?'

"She'll handle it," he growled out loud.

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The sweet smell of the fruit tea made it impossible for Beth to sleep. She sat in the huge bed, sipping her tea and mused over yesterday's events. She's killed a man, felt his warm blood on her hands, seen the life go out of his eyes.

It crossed her mind that Andy was an innocent in this, the two older men may have persuaded him to talk to her and keep her calm. He may have surrendered after Daryl killed the others, but she had sliced into his stomach without giving him a chance to speak.

Should she pray for forgiveness? Feeling guilty, she admitted to herself that she hadn't done a great deal of praying recently. Could you hope to be forgiven for murder? Should she pray for the souls of the dead men? Maybe she should just offer thanks for her own life? A smile crossed her face as she thought "Should I thank God for Daryl?" Without him she would be dead or worse.

An awful thought ran through her mind. She hadn't actually thanked Daryl! She was sitting here, drinking tea in bed, while he was cleaning out that disgusting kitchen. She hadn't even thanked him for the tea!

Despite the aches and pains she felt, it wasn't long before she was jogging down the stairs.

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Daryl had closed the doors between the kitchen and the rest of the house to try and keep in the stench. When Beth entered she had to pause to get used to the smell of rotten food, mixed with kitchen cleaner, which had been liberally sprayed over the surfaces.

He was relieved to see her, but noticed she looked awkward moving from one foot to another, "What's up?"

"I didn't say 'thank you' and I really should have done. I'm sorry, but thank you…" Beth blurted out, then realised Daryl was looking confused, "Thank you for yesterday, saving me from those three."

"Thank me? There's no need. It's just the two of us, we gotta look out for each other."

"I didn't even thank you for my tea!"

"You reason enough to be a bit distracted this morning. You don't have to thank me… What you do have to do is explain what you're wearing?" Daryl decided to change the conversation.

"I'm here to help you clean, I didn't want to get anything dirty that I might want to wear again." In her hurry, Beth had picked a bright pink pair of Mrs Grant's yoga pants and a huge white shirt that Mr Grant might have worn with a suit.

Trying not to smile at the splash of colour, Daryl asked, "You sure you're okay, you still look pale. Did you eat?"

"I had the tea you made."

"You need more than that to get through today, go finish up that fruit and do you mind grabbing me one of those shirts. You're probably right, this is gonna get messy."

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Beth worked in pink rubber gloves that she found in a kitchen drawer. Daryl had laughed, saying she looked very glamorous and that "Mrs Grant would be proud," he was pleased to see Beth smile but then he worried if she would take the teasing the wrong way. Did it sound like he was flirting? After yesterday that was the last thing he should be doing. Maybe he should be more careful with what he said to her?

It was hard work, both of them were glad to keep themselves occupied. After a few hours the kitchen was cleared and smelled more of bleach than anything else. They buried the body of the walker in the plot at the front of their house, adding the rotten food and the white shirts they had both worn over their clothes to the shallow grave, then decided they deserved a late lunch.

So far cooking had been just heating up tinned food, this time Beth enjoyed the simple process of pasta with tinned Bolognese sauce, she added herbs and dried garlic to try to make it more interesting and was pleased with the results.

"It's weird feeling full again," Daryl said after lunch. "That was really good. Thank you."

"Would have been better with parmesan," Beth decided.

"Won't be tasting that for a long while," Daryl replied absently, while flexing his injured hand.

"Your hand okay?"

"Aches a bit," he admitted.

"Let me take a look." Before he could disagree, Beth went inside to collect everything she would need. "I'm sorry, I should have done this last night."

"You had enough on your mind."

Once Beth took off the bandage, they were both relieved to see that the cut on his hand looked to be healing well, he had lost one stitch but the wound looked clean. "It looks good, maybe you could leave the bandage off this afternoon. Do you think you could keep it clean?"

"I wanna check the house next door, so probably not. I think we need to know if we have neighbours." From his seat on the balcony Daryl could see the walls around the garden next door. The other two houses could wait, but he wanted to know what was so close by.

"Okay, but will you sit still for a little while? You can watch out for walkers." Beth waved her arm at the view, trying to be persuasive. From their spot on the balcony they had only seen three walkers wander aimlessly by, but Daryl had watched their every step. This time he seemed to agree with her, leant back in his chair and stretched out his legs in front of him, in a show of relaxation.

"There's something I wanted to ask you about yesterday, and those men."

Daryl looked surprised, "Go ahead."

"The third man that I killed, maybe I shouldn't have killed him. He was trying to be nicer than the others, maybe he would have surrendered if I had given him a chance to?"

"I'm sure he would have loved the chance to surrender, but he didn't deserve it." Daryl sounded amazed that she had asked this. "He was only 'trying to be nicer' so you didn't panic, that doesn't mean he was nice, he was just a tiny bit smarter than the other two."

Beth still looked uncomfortable. "I thought the other two may have persuaded him?"

"There was no time for that. I was watching them, I heard them when I came out of the store and got out of their way. I hoped they'd just keep going, but they saw you and didn't hesitate. No one was persuaded, they were all grinning at what they thought they were going to do, even your 'nice' guy." Daryl hoped he hadn't gone too far in trying to convince her. Beth was quiet, looking out at their view.

Eventually she asked quietly, "If they didn't need to talk about what they were planning, could they have done it before?"

"We'll never know, but they won't do it again. There's a chance women from our group are alone around here..." Daryl left that thought hanging in the air.

Beth thought about girls that might have already met the three men, girls that weren't lucky enough to have someone like Daryl to even out the odds. She thought about Maggie who might have met them. Sasha, Carol and even Michonne too. Her feelings of guilt ebbed away. It didn't take long for her to decide, "I'm glad we killed them."

.

Beth was impressed with herself for convincing Daryl to sit while she washed up after lunch, although not long after that he asked for his hand to be bandaged up again and they set off to the house next door.

Daryl had clearly been planning, they collected a stepladder and a wheelbarrow from Mr Grant's garage to make their trip next door easier. It wasn't long before they were both sitting astride the neighbour's garden wall. It was clear from the damage to the overgrown garden that it had been walked on recently. Daryl made a sharp whistle through his fingers and prepared his crossbow. They didn't have to wait long before a male walker shambled around the corner of the house. Daryl raised his bow, but quickly realised this was a perfect practice opportunity. "You should try that little gun," he suggested to Beth. She shot him a look that didn't display confidence, but got the gun out of her pocket.

A female walker followed the male and Beth's first shot went high. Daryl could see her frustration but as he was about to advise her to keep relaxed, Beth seemed to settle. She let out a long breath and shot off the top of the walkers head. She angled straight to her second target and her third shot was even better, right between the female's eyes.

"Nice shooting," Daryl announced.

"Two out of three." Beth couldn't keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Two out of three with a new gun is 'nice shooting'," Daryl insisted.

"Thanks… Did you see that?" Beth interrupted herself as a curtain in an upstairs room stirred. Daryl's answer was to raise his bow, while she aimed the gun again. "Could it be a survivor?"

"Doubt it," Daryl was conscious that they were sitting upon a wall like targets to be shot at, but despite the movement was convinced there were no humans around. "Anyone with common sense would check the next door houses for food."

"A survivor who's lost their common sense?"

"More likely a walker who doesn't know how a curtain works. Let's go find out." Daryl swung the stepladder over the wall so they could get down without risk of breaking an ankle and get out quickly if necessary. They did a quick sweep of the garden and the back of the house, there was a garden shed that looked promising for the barbecue coals that they needed.

Spread over the paved patio by the house were the dried remains of an animal. "Do you think something got over the wall?" Beth asked, more in hope than expectation.

"More likely their own dog." Daryl pointed out a collar.

Beth winced in distaste and was glad to return to the front of the house.

The door was as easy to open as the door to their own house was, everything seemed to be neat and tidy inside. Daryl whistled again, inviting any walkers to come and get them, but none appeared. After checking the downstairs rooms and finding nothing to worry about, they went up the grand staircase which was similar to the one next door. Upstairs, most doors were open and the bedrooms easy to check, as they were flooded by light from the afternoon sun shining through most windows. Only one door was closed and it seemed to be the room at the front where they had seen movement.

Daryl listened at the door, whispering to Beth, "Stay back, but keep your gun out." He wasn't surprised that it was locked, he had to shove though it but couldn't do that with his crossbow ready, so took out his knife and put his shoulder to the door. The walker who had been locked inside was still stood at the window. She turned slowly but once she realised the intruder was food, she came towards Daryl without hesitation. He wouldn't normally waste time or energy dealing with a trapped walker, but this one was a little too close to home for comfort. He used his knife as she reached him and the walker crumpled to the floor.

There were two beds in the room, one still tidily made with a pale pink throw and cushions, the one closest to the door spoiled by the remains of a girls body.

Beth appeared at Daryl's shoulder, he would have liked to have hidden this from her, but he was too late. She stood shocked for a moment, then left the room.

Daryl assumed the two girls were sisters or friends who decided to opt out once the adult couple downstairs had turned, they might have even seen them eat the dog. There were a selection of pill bottles on the night stand and empty glasses. The walker must have turned first and eaten the other girl, but then got trapped in the locked room for a couple of years.

There was a slight consolation for seeing this, Daryl noticed a set of keys on the floor by the bed. Hopefully one would open the driveway gates and he wouldn't have to carry anything they wanted from the house over the garden wall. He closed the door on the scene and found Beth waiting for him at the top of the stairs.

She looked closed down and tense, he was worried that seeing this might be bringing memories back for her. Of course, Daryl had heard about Beth's attempt to end her own life, Lori had told Carol, and Carol had told him. No one had secrets anymore.

"Let's go check out the kitchen and that shed, then get out of here." Daryl suggested.

Beth nodded, she would have liked to have left immediately but there were things they needed. It was wrong to run away from four dead bodies and a dog.

.

The kitchen smelled better than many they had encountered, the family must have been running out of fresh food. Daryl opened up the back door and asked "Do you want me to help out in here, or should I check the shed?"

Beth reminded herself that the house was safe, only filled with the actual dead now so she agreed that Daryl should start collecting from outside and started her hunt through the cupboards.

This family seemed to have used their kitchen more than Mrs Grant had, the cupboards were stocked with flour, sugar, oats, honey and even powdered milk. Beth was hoping she could make porridge, maybe even some version of flat bread. They were eating so many soups and stews that bread would be a great addition to their canned diet. She took a heavy griddle pan, a battered cookery book and began to piling stocks by the door to add to Daryl's loaded wheelbarrow.

"No promises," she said to him. "But I might be able to make porridge tomorrow and maybe bread, but it will be very trial and error on a barbecue."

He grinned in appreciation. "You know you don't have to do all the cooking?"

"I know, and you certainly do your fair share, although if I'm not just opening cans I quite enjoy it… and it looks like we have enough fuel to keep us going?"

Daryl had found a good stock of charcoal and piled it into the wheelbarrow, carefully they placed bags of food on top. Slowly, they walked back to their house with Beth carrying the stepladder and making sure nothing fell off the barrow.

Beth still looked pale, and she was quiet again. Daryl supposed there could be many reasons. "This is a good haul from one house..." He tried to sound positive.

"Yeah, I wish we hadn't had to see all that though."

"You shouldn't feel sorry for the walkers."

Beth took a moment before her reply. "Yes, but I want to feel sorry for the people they once were. I suppose I got used to killing them when they're at the prison fence or even walking the street, but seeing them in their homes makes me think of them as people or the remains of people. They lived here."

"But we do need to kill them though..."

"Of course, but I want to kill them for them, as much as for us. They deserve to rest."

Daryl wasn't quite sure what he thought about that, but as long as she was prepared to kill walkers he didn't plan on arguing. It was his turn to be quiet, and for the rest of the walk back he mulled over what she had said.

.

They had put bottled water in the kitchen sink and filled it with icy cold tap water. Daryl found it very welcome after their afternoon out, but the cold didn't feel too good to Beth who was beginning to ache now she had stopped moving. She was thinking tea and painkillers would be ideal, but that involved walking upstairs and she wasn't quite ready to do that yet. She could see Daryl shooting her concerned glances and decided maybe it was time to talk about her past. She'd heard a lot of women say that your period was a great time to 'take care of business'.

"I suppose you heard that I tried to kill myself?"

"I heard," Daryl said, taking another sip from his bottle and not prepared to comment.

"I changed my mind, but I understand why those girls did what they did. Being trapped up there like that."

"You regret changing your mind?"

"No, no, not at all. I realised I did have options. I still had family and we found a life. The prison was hard, but it was a life, something to live for."

Daryl knew she was trying to be positive, but needed to test her resolve. "But now what? We've lost the prison."

"But the prison proved it's possible, so I think we can find a life again. I won't give up so easy this time... I'm guessing you won't either?"

Daryl grinned, "No, I won't be giving up." It was impossible for Beth not to grin along with him.

.

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**Don't know how I managed not to go totally overboard in house details. I think I stuck vaguely to the plot! More next weekend...**

**Thanks again for all the comments and follows, they're always appreciated. **

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**Can't wait to see this weeks TWD – Beth and Daryl by firelight!**

**In the UK we get to see it about 20 hours after the US so please try to avoid sharing any spoilers in any comments – Thank you! **

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**15th February 2014 ~ FanOTheFang on Twitter and Tumblr**


	10. Chapter 10

**Quick Update: Daryl and Beth stayed away from town after they left three bodies there. They've been cleaning up their house and talking about Beth's past.**

.

Daryl was happy to sit on the balcony with a cigarette and his book that night. Papillon was planning another escape attempt, but the amount of the book he had left proved that he probably wasn't going to get out of jail anytime soon. The usual urge for another cigarette played on his mind so he went inside, where he wouldn't let himself smoke.

Beth was sitting cross legged on her bed with a look of concentration on her face, she was surrounded by a couple of books and notepaper.

"You look busy?"

"I'm trying to make a bread recipe from the ingredients that we have. I'm not sure how this will work out, but I'd rather plan it than waste flour."

"If we take the car out tomorrow we can bring back whatever stores we find."

"That's good, but I still doubt we'll ever find yeast that's still usable, it will all be growing it's own community by now. Please don't expect a risen, crusty loaf of white bread."

"I won't, I'll just be the guinea pig who tries anything." Daryl left her to her plans and lit himself a candle by the sofa so he could get back to his book.

It was a little while later that Beth came and sat by him. Daryl immediately realised that she was sitting just where she had been when she kissed him, but Beth didn't seem worried.

"I'm gonna get some sleep in a second, but I wanted to show you this. Mrs Grant had a diary that she hadn't used in her bedside cabinet." She showed him a pocket-sized book with a flowery cover. "I thought I might use it to keep track of the days. I'm getting a little lost, seems like a week ago since we painted the sign, but it was only the day before yesterday. I don't suppose you know what date it is?"

"I could guess at a month. I'm not even sure what year it is," he admitted.

"Thought not, so I started at the beginning. I got New Year's Day as the day we climbed over the garden wall. I noted when we made our sign and how many walkers we saw, what we found and where." Beth also thought it would be a good idea keep a track of her period, but she wasn't going to discuss that right now.

"It's a good idea," Daryl looked at her neat notes. "It does feel like we've been here a couple of weeks already."

"Tonight's only our fourth night here."

"So while I was having a smoke, you created a calendar?"

"Kinda."

Daryl had seen her cell at the prison, so he knew the answer to his next question. "Were you the type that made lists?"

"All the time. At school, I was the one who spent hours making beautiful revision time tables, but never left any time to revise."

He was pretty sure there was more she wanted to say, he was sure she would spit it out soon. He only had to wait a moment.

"There's something else I wanted to write, but I don't know if I should." Beth began hesitantly and Daryl put his book down as she sounded so serious. "I'm worried that we will forget people, we've lost so many and we don't have a way to remember them. We don't have graves to visit. I'd like to try and record their lives another way."

Beth paused as her voice got shaky, but she saw Daryl nodding and was able to continue. "I'll make a record of their name, what we know of their family, what they did before. It could be useful to know where people came from, where they went after everything started? Could you help me with that? I know you found lots of people, you would know them better than I did."

"I'll help..." Daryl nodded.

"I was thinking about Otis and Patricia, we lost them so long ago. I'm sure you lost people before you arrived at our farm."

"Plenty. You're right, we shouldn't forget them. I didn't even know Otis."

"He was a good man, I think you and he would have gotten along. Swapped hunting stories, maybe." Beth was smiling but she still looked a little edgy. "I don't want to cause any offence."

"Sweetheart, I can't imagine you offending anyone." Daryl grinned and watched Beth lower her face, she tried to hide her smile and he realised what he'd said. "Sorry, I know you don't like me calling you that..."

"I don't mind," Beth said in a quiet voice. She raised her eyes and caught his gaze.

Daryl was uncomfortable with the quick change of atmosphere, the last time he called her sweetheart had been just after she had kissed him. She was clearly remembering, he was desperately trying not to. "It's a habit, I'll try not to call you that again."

"I only didn't like it, because you were pushing me away." Her voice was low and sultry again.

"I didn't push you away." Daryl tried to defend himself.

"You weren't pulling me closer!"

"Beth!" Daryl didn't want to snap at her, but he couldn't stop himself. He stood and walked away, because distance seemed like a really good idea. "We said we we're going to slow down. You agreed!"

"I did and that's why I haven't mention this since yesterday morning. Remember how you felt behind me on the bike? I remember..."

Daryl slumped in the armchair. "See this isn't right. It's not you to be flirting like this!"

"Maybe you don't know me that well..."

"Maybe not." He kept his eyes on the coffee table, refusing to catch her eye.

"I think we should try and live a little while we can. I wanted to let you know how I felt... It' s not unheard of for a girl to let a guy know she likes him. Before Jimmy and I got together, I told him that if he asked me out on a date, I'd say yes." It felt weird to be discussing her ex, but fitting at the moment.

Finally Daryl looked up. "A date. Just a date, that wasn't what you were suggesting the other night!"

"Well, it's different now."

"Beth, it's not that different."

Beth scrambled around for a solution. "So maybe we should go out on a date?"

"We need to concentrate when we're outside, I told you that." Daryl was being purposefully obtuse and Beth knew it.

"So you would prefer us to stay in on a date... We could work something out."

"Beth..." Daryl sighed in exasperation.

She stayed quiet for a moment, then began again, "If you tell me to stop, I will. If you _really_ think you and I are a _really_ bad idea, then I'll stop badgering you. You have to tell me to stop."

Beth almost held her breath. Daryl stayed still for what seemed to Beth like an age, then slowly he looked up from the coffee table to her. He held her gaze, just for a moment, and he didn't say stop.

It took a moment for Beth catch her breath and say something else. "Maybe we could take some time to be together, kinda like a date but just getting to know each other better? We don't have to talk about anything too personal," Beth added quickly. She had heard rumours about Daryl's past but never heard him talk too much about it, she didn't want to pry.

"No more talking tonight, it's late."

"Tomorrow night? We could have dinner together."

Daryl nodded, or he gave a very slight movement of his head which made Beth believe he had agreed. She was quite amazed, decided not to push her luck and ran off to the bathroom to get herself ready for bed.

.

Daryl was working his way through Mr Grant's expensive whiskeys from the bar. At least he assumed they were expensive, he didn't recognise any labels and they were all pretty old, so far they had all tasted great. He was allowing himself just one large glass per night; there was no way he would get drunk. This world wasn't safe enough to get drunk in anymore and the temptation that Beth was becoming certainly wouldn't decrease after a few too many.

The drink had helped him to sleep for a couple of hours, but now he was wide awake listening to Beth's regular breathing and mulling over this 'date' idea.

His original plan was to make the date so disastrous that she would forgot all about this crush that she thought she had. He was sure it wouldn't be difficult; smoke at the table, pretend to drink too much, swear a little, ignore her conversation and tell boring stories of his own. He found it easy to be obnoxious when he wanted to be. It seemed Beth had pretty high expectations, he could disappoint her without even trying too hard, then maybe could get back to normal.

The more he planned how to spoil the night, the less he wanted to. Daryl had never been on a proper 'dinner date', why shouldn't he see how it went? It might work. Maybe not, but why shouldn't he try?

As the room became lighter he went to wait for the sun come up on the balcony, the view was still beautiful, but that morning there was an addition to the view that thrilled him.

Collecting his crossbow, he crept silently through the bedroom but the key in the lock made a loud click. Beth made a slight huff in her sleep, Daryl knew that if she woke and he wasn't here, she would be horrified. He needed to tell her where he was going. He whispered her name from the door, but she didn't stir, so he stepped closer.

Why'd she have to look like a Disney princess when she slept? Pale and beautiful even with her bright eyes closed, hair fanned out on the pillow which was still crisp and white.

Why was he thinking about sleeping princesses? In an attempt to keep his brain quiet, Daryl hissed "Beth" a little too loudly. She woke with a start and began to get out of bed, while asking questions and clearly panicking.

As she was half out of bed, Daryl saw a long leg, the side of white panties and the curve of her bottom. The t-shirt she wore to sleep in had twisted around her, showing more gentle contours. He stared for a moment, stunned at the sight.

"What's wrong?" Beth's voice was high pitched enough to shake Daryl, he stepped back from her awkwardly, his hand up to try and block the unexpected view.

"It's okay, it's okay. I didn't mean to scare ya, but I'm going out. I'll be back really soon."

"Out?" Beth sank back down to her bed.

"I saw a couple of rabbits. Gonna see if I can get one for dinner."

"Rabbits?" Beth was clearly confused. "Wait, I'll come with you."

"No, you looked really comfortable. No need for you to get up, just cos I can't sleep."

"We've seen walkers out there..."

"Not many, I'll be careful. Go back to sleep, you won't even notice I'm gone." Daryl had to get out of there now, before the temptation to push her back onto the bed became too strong.

.

Beth knew there was no one safer out there than him, but still her heart raced as he left. Wide awake now, there was no chance of her being able to sleep again. She padded on to the balcony and watched Daryl make his way through the overgrown meadow at the back of the house. There were no walkers in sight, no rabbits either but if he said there were rabbits, she was sure there would be. As he disappeared amongst the trees she knew it was pointless trying to watch out for him. The barbecue was cold so he hadn't even had a coffee, she decided to prepare for breakfast to occupy herself.

When she saw Daryl reappear, she could tell he had been successful just from the way he walked, impulsively she jumped to her feet, waving her arms above her head. Daryl held up his catch in a sort of salute and Beth became aware that she might look like an idiot, but really didn't care.

He remembered feeling the same way when he returned from a run to the prison, it felt as if he were coming home, which wasn't something he'd ever been used to. People would gather to see what he had found and meet anyone new that he had brought back with him. Although he didn't think any reaction had been quite as excited as Beth's was now, and he'd only been gone half an hour.

As he tramped through the long grass in the meadow behind the house, he had to remind himself to keep an eye out for any stray walkers because he was concentrating on her so much. She was clearly watching him, but checking on the barbecue too.

He thought she looked like a princess locked in a tower and he had to he remind himself that he was no Prince Charming. Or was she Juliet? Searching for her Romeo but she had only found was him.

As he unlocked the front door of the house, he made his decision. He'd see how this date went, he wouldn't try spoil it, he'd even try to live upto Beth's expectations. Maybe she was right, they should try and live a little.

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**Thanks to a review from ****ALCzysz17, ****I realised what has been missing from the last couple of chapters... Fluff! I hope this chapter had enough to make up for it, I even added a rabbit! **

**I have reminded myself that I'm writing a Walking Dead Romance, not a horror story and I'm really looking forward to writing their date this weekend.**

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**Huge thanks to everyone who reviews – This story has just reached 100 which was such a thrill! Please let me know what you think of this. **

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**21st February 2014 ~ FanOTheFang on Twitter and Tumblr**


	11. Chapter 11

**Quick Update: After much persuasion, Beth has convinced Daryl that they should have a 'dinner date' to get to know one another better. **

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After their early start, it was a very long day. They took Mrs Grant's car into town, which was a relief for both of them, Beth remembered stumbling off the bike too clearly and Daryl found it less of a distraction for Beth to be alongside him rather than sitting close behind him. The disappointment was Mrs Grant's CD collection, neither of them wanted to listen to Michael Bublé.

The first stop was a DIY store on the edge of town, they drove past four walkers as they turned into the huge parking lot, but they were moving slowly so Daryl decided to just keep an eye on them.

There were only a couple of cars in the lot by the store, one was up on bricks and missing a tyre, others had damage to the gas tanks. The store looked as if it had been looted too. Daryl was hoping they wouldn't be in there long as they only really needed paint, anything else would be a bonus.

One of the automatic doors had been ripped out, it provided only light that shone dimly into the store. Daryl shone his flashlight around the entrance, there was no sign of life, dead or otherwise.

"Stay close," he muttered to Beth as he saw a sign for Paint. With her crowbar in one hand and flashlight in the other, Beth had no intention of separating from him in the dark, cavernous store and they moved quickly past the aisles of shelves.

"Daryl, look." Beth spotted a trolley on it's side down one of the aisles, it was still partly full with a few goods scattered around it. It seemed too good an opportunity to miss. They righted the trolley, which made more noise than they hoped, but it was filled with flashlights, batteries, water-testing kits and two jerry cans. There were candles from the floor that had fallen out of the trolley next to a dark, but long dried puddle of blood on the floor, which Beth did her best to ignore. This wasn't the time to worry about the fate of the people who had collected these necessities.

The paint was just a couple of aisles further up. Daryl dumped two large cans of dark paint and a couple paintbrushes on top of the trolley, he took more then they needed because he didn't intend to back in this store again, if he could help it.

As they reached the end of the aisle Daryl heard the familiar drag of feet and low groans which meant trouble, Beth looked to him with questioning eyes. If they turned around they would be going further into the dark store, probably with walkers behind them. Daryl thought that in front of them were only two walkers, three at most, so he went ahead of Beth who was pushing their loaded trolley.

"Keep going, I'm right behind you!" he hissed to Beth as they reached the main aisle. He faced two walkers who were staggering towards them, one was faster than the other who was dragging his leg behind him, so Daryl could use his knife in one brain at a time, then turned to hurry after Beth.

Beth heard the bodies fall, then footsteps, she was sure it was Daryl but had to check and looked around. She was thrilled to see him chasing after her, but when she turned back there was a walker straight in front of her. The first impulse was to stop, but she decided her biggest weapon was the trolley so kept going and drove it into the walker. The female slumped face forwards over the trolley, but still tried to grab at Beth, who had an awful memory of the walker that had been her mother grabbing at her hair. She let go of the trolley, but kept hold of her crowbar and using both hands plunged it into the back of the walkers head.

When Daryl reached her, Beth was struggling to get the crowbar out of the walker, but managed it with a sickening, sucking sound and a spray of dark blood. Daryl grabbed the body by the back of it's jacket, dumped it to one side and they set off again, quickly but carefully, making their way out of the store.

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The sunlight dazzled them as they ran towards the car, Daryl took over pushing and sent Beth ahead to open up. The four walkers that had been at the entrance to the lot were making their way towards them. Beth was internally panicking but tried to copy Daryl's calm as they loaded the trunk, while keeping an eye on the company who were slowly approaching. She refused to be squeamish about the walker's blood that covered some of the packaging, there was no time for that.

"Get in the back. Driver's side." Daryl hissed, as the walkers were getting close to the passenger side. He shut the trunk quietly so the walkers didn't get too excited, then shoved the trolley away from the car which rattled and toppled over with enough noise to make a couple of their followers turn in that direction.

Mrs Grant's car was not used to being handled so roughly, but it had been well taken care of and flew past the confused walkers, while Beth was bounced around in the back seat. As Daryl reached the road, she sat in the middle of the seat so she could see ahead. He asked if she was okay and she asked him the same question.

"I'd be fine, if I didn't feel like a chauffeur," he muttered.

Glad of a little light relief, Beth replied, "Well, you sure don't look like one. You need a peaked cap."

Daryl was quiet for a while, concentrating on the road ahead, but thinking about their close call. "We'd better stick to the smaller stores from now on. It's easier with two of us."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? What for?"

"I'm not that good at this. I nearly got my crowbar stuck in that walker."

"Only because you drove it in with a little too much force, better that than not enough."

Beth didn't look convinced.

"Stores that size are too big for any two people, I only risked it because I thought the two of us could deal with it and we did… so no more saying 'sorry'. Say 'shit' instead!"

"Daryl!"

"I'm serious. Don't say, 'sorry, I nearly got my weapon stuck in a walker' say..."

"Shit, I nearly got my weapon stuck in a walker!"

"Much better." Daryl announced, as Beth shook her head and tried not to laugh. "It's a release. No need to keep apologisin'."

"I'll try remember that."

.

Beth tried not to be disappointed when they passed their Ass Kicker sign and there was no one waiting for them and no addition to the sign. Although she had a little spark of hope, realistically she knew it would be too much to expect for their plan to work after just one day.

As they passed the alley where she had met Andy, Buck and Sonny, she stared ahead. Daryl leaned forward in his seat to check for trouble, but the alley was clear. After seeing walkers outside of the DIY store they didn't see any in town. Beth painted a new sign on a wall Daryl had spotted the previous day. He kept watch while she painted and then she kept watch while he filled their two new Jerry cans on their way back out of town.

By the time they got home they were both regretting missing lunch and looking forward to dinner, although Beth was a mixture of anxious and excited about the date part of the evening. She thought Daryl might have forgotten about the whole plan, or was at least he was not thinking about it. He put himself in charge of preparing and spit-roasting the rabbit, while she tried to make canned new potatoes more interesting by roasting them in foil with dried herbs.

Beth found a table cloth for the little table they had on the balcony and even put out some cloth napkins along with Mrs Grant's best cutlery. Daryl looked a little surprised but didn't comment, he didn't even say a thing when she put a tea-light in a little lantern on the table.

Daryl was busy telling himself not to be worried by a fancy table when Beth announced she was going to get changed. He hadn't considered clothing, but decided he would have to do, as his shirt had been clean that morning and he had scrubbed him self free from walker blood before dealing with the rabbit. He smelled of roast rabbit more than anything else, which could be worse.

When Beth reappeared, she stood in the doorway of the balcony, looking unsure if she should step outside. Daryl wasn't able to say anything for a long moment. She had clearly made an effort, her pretty hair was down and shiny, but held back off her face. She had a little black stuff around her eyes, which made the beautiful blue colours pop and a little shine on her lovely lips. Her sweater was looked soft and clean and touchable. She was wearing a denim skirt, those legs again, they looked touchable too...

Eyes up! Daryl yelled at himself.

It was difficult from his position sat by the barbecue but Daryl looked up and told her she was beautiful. He couldn't understand why Beth seemed surprised, surely she knew that? "Can't remember the last time I saw anyone in a skirt," he added, realising he sounded like a fool.

"It feels odd wearing one," Beth admitted. She kept quiet that when she had first tried the skirt on she'd felt half naked, even though it fell just above her knees. She had changed her sleeveless t-shirt to the sweater and so she felt a little more covered.

She asked how she could help with dinner, but Daryl claimed he was organised. "It'll just be ten minutes or so... Do you want a drink? I can bring something up from downstairs. Beer or wine, or one of the soft drinks?"

"I'll try wine, please."

Daryl jogged downstairs, glad of a moment alone to compose himself. Now he wanted the 'date' to go well, it seemed he was more likely to mess it up.

Mr Grant had a large selection of wine, Daryl chose red as there was no time to chill the white but then was a little stumped looking at the labels, he'd drunk more from boxes of wine rather than bottles. Realising it was Beth's first time drinking wine, he decided on the bottle that had least percentage of alcohol. Half way upstairs he had to turn back to collect a couple of delicate wine glasses, as they only had water glasses and a whiskey tumbler upstairs.

"Do you like it?" He asked, as Beth sipped from her glass.

"I think so. I should probably eat first."

"Good idea... no, you stay there. I'll get everything." Daryl waved at Beth to sit and he plated up their rabbit and potatoes. No matter what else happened on this date, they were going to eat well.

While they ate, conversation was more about how good the fresh food was rather than anything else. Beth finished first but Daryl helped himself to more while Beth talked about making a stew with the leftovers.

"The first time I tried rabbit was that time you caught two, just before we found the prison."

"Yeah, I remember that. Ten people, two rabbits. We were all pretty hungry that night." Daryl thought that he should try to cheer the conversation up a little. "But there's plenty of rabbits out there. Young and full grown, so they're breeding, we'll have loads to choose from..." He stopped talking, realising that breeding rabbits might not be a good topic for a date, but Beth didn't seem to mind.

"When I helped out at the vets, a family brought a rabbit in because they thought she was ill, but she had a baby right there in the waiting room, then four more in the surgery. I got to see it. They were just little balls of messy fluff. It was a bit of a surprise!"

"A surprise?" Daryl had a few questions, but that came out first.

"The parents didn't know how the rabbit could have gotten pregnant." Beth managed to keep her voice deadpan.

Daryl crooked an eyebrow as he took a drink.

Beth blushed a little. "Well they knew how, obviously. It turned out the neighbours had a male rabbit and the kids had been taking their rabbit to 'play' next door. It seemed that the parents had never explained the consequences to them…" Beth had to stop talking because Daryl was laughing so hard and she couldn't resist joining in. "We shouldn't laugh, those poor kids were traumatised."

Daryl decided he couldn't eat anymore and sat back from the table, holding his wine which was better than any he'd ever tried. "How come you were in the vets?"

"I worked there on Saturdays."

"I didn't know that."

"It was my Daddy's old business, he sold it to Mr Turner when he retired. The practice dealt with farm animals mostly but he had a morning surgery for pets on a Saturday. I helped out answering the phone, keeping the cats and dogs apart, and sometimes keeping the parents and kids apart too."

"Did you want to be a vet? Like your Pop?"

"I did when I was younger, but I wasn't likely to get the grades. I wasn't sure about leaving for college either, I hated it when Maggie left, couldn't imagine going away alone." Beth wanted to be more positive and continued, "After I finished school I hoped to carry on at Mr Turner's and helped out on our farm too, I would have learnt a lot."

It had never really dawned on Daryl how much she had lost, she was young enough to have had dreams and plans that might have worked out. If the whole world hadn't gone to shit, she could have finished high school. Then worked with her Daddy and this other vet. Then met some guy, smart and handsome, another vet, a farmer, a doctor, someone her family approved of. They'd have married, had kids and pets or maybe taken over her Father's farm. She would have been happy, but this fucked up world had taken that away from her and so she was sitting on a balcony, having a fake date with a fucked up red-neck, who shouldn't even be looking at a girl like her.

Daryl drained his glass and put it back on the table with a heavy hand. "Do you want more?" He asked abruptly. Beth declined, she still had half a glass left, Daryl was guessing she didn't like red wine but poured himself another.

.

Daryl seemed even quieter than usual and Beth wasn't sure why. She had been talking about her life before, that probably didn't interest him. Daryl seemed more interested in life after the world had changed. She tried another topic of conversation but wasn't getting anywhere, and after a moment of quiet, looking at their view, she collected the dirty pots and escaped to the kitchen.

Irritated with herself for not being able to talk to him and hold his interest, she took her frustration out on the few dishes. Eventually, she knew she couldn't hide downstairs and so returned back to the bedroom thinking that she should probably end this whole thing, say she needed to sleep after their early start. She felt like a kid, playing at dating. What a stupid idea.

When she opened the door, Daryl was inside, he stopped as if he had been pacing and spoke quickly before she had chance. "Wind's getting up a bit, I though it might be better for you in here… Cleaning the dishes isn't something you should do on a date, I didn't think."

"That's okay, you did most of the cooking and it was great. Umm, I'm gonna get some sleep, it's been a long day."

Still stood in the middle of the room, Daryl looked at her as if he didn't understand what she'd said.

Awkwardly, Beth stepped from one foot to another. "You're off the hook, this date thing was a stupid idea. I shouldn't be putting you through it." It didn't help that she heard her voice crack. "Daryl?"

His eyes moved from her, he was looking at the floor, his body almost turned to one side. "S'alright... Surprised it lasted so long."

"But you didn't want to do this."

"Would'a been nice to know if I could do it. A proper civilised dinner. I suppose I can't."

"You were bored. You weren't even talking to me."

"I was thinking 'bout what you said." Daryl said, a little defensively. "Neither of us exactly 'chit-chat'."

"So you weren't bored?"

"Nope." Finally he looked up at her.

"So, you wouldn't mind if I had a cup of tea and stayed awake a little longer?"

"I'll make your tea and bring it in, it's getting cooler out there."

.

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**.**

**Sorry this is later than I hoped but I got caught up watching all the promotion for Still, then watching Still, then watching all the feedback afterwards. I've been busy! **

**I'm so happy that Bethyl is sailing ~ And at least I got the drinking part right, although I didn't think to give her moonshine!**

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**Huge thanks again for all reviews, favourites and kudos ~ The support is really appreciated.**

**And cans not tins ~ Thanks for the tip! **

**Part two of the first date out as soon as possible...**

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**5th March 2014 ~ FanOTheFang on Twitter and Tumblr**


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